Lyla Potter and the Wizarding World's Alcatraz
by XxSoulTakerxX
Summary: Lyla always figured there was something a bit off about her. She knew she didnt fit in with her 'muggle' classmates, there was no question about that. But with her thirteenth birthday quickly approaching, how will she handle what her guardian, Remus Lupin
1. Chapter 1

- Chapter 1 -

[The Calm Before The Storm

It was a still and hushed night in Godric's Hollow. Not even the wind had come out to sway its way through the leaves on the trees. The stars seemed to have vanished from the sky and the moon was uncommonly bright shinning down on a quaint two story house. Inside lived an unusual ever growing family of four whom to an outsider would appear perfectly normal but upon closer inspection would reveal a few interesting facts.

The father, James, was quite a handsome fellow, very tall and muscular with hazel eyes hidden behind glasses and an unruly mess of black hair. He looked quite capable of being intimidating and yet entertaining at the same time. The mother, Lily, on the other hand, had a smaller frame and was stunningly beautiful. She was a little shorter than her husband, had bright green eyes and long, _tamed_, red hair. She looked very kind and patient and held knowledge way beyond her short years.

Lily had just put their son, Harry, and daughter, Lyla (one year old twins), to sleep in separate rooms and had returned down stairs to talk with her husband. The youngest, by less than a minute, had been ill that day and given the circumstances they didn't want to risk their son catching whatever she had also.

They weren't expecting anything to happen that night. Apparently they had never before heard the phrase, "The calm before the storm," either that or they just didn't notice the conditions of outside and connect it to the current situation they were in.

Lily, seeing that it was time to check on Lyla, hurried up the stairs and barely made it through the door when a loud crash resounded off the walls in the house. She made to turn and go back to the lower level of the house when her husband shouted at her to stay where she was and protect the children.

Lily ran back to her daughter and placed a protection charm around her before making her way to do the same to her son. James' screams could be heard throughout the whole small house and Lily was fighting not to check on him. She knew it was hopeless anyway. There was only one thing to do and she was prepared to go through with it if it meant her children would be safe.

She found little Harry still awake and looking around wildly, wondering what all the noise was. She was about to place the same protection charm on him when she heard someone enter the room.

She quickly turned around and gasped in a mixture of fright and shock (more the former than the latter). She wasn't expecting Voldemort himself to be there, she figured he would send one of his lackey death eaters to do his dirty work for him. She boldly demanded that he leave them all alone to which the man, if you could even call him that replied with a cruel chortle and ignored her pleads.

His small demonic crimson eyes glanced at Harry momentarily before a sadistic smile danced its way across his lips. Lily saw this and before even thinking launched herself in front of him as Voldemort sent the Killing Curse hoping to hit Harry but connecting with Lily instead.

He cursed at not being able to make Lily watch him kill her son before killing her himself but quickly forgot about it and turned his attention back to the boy. He smiled maliciously, obviously enjoying what he was doing and raised his wand to kill little Harry.

But what happened next was most unexpected. The boy had somehow managed to deflect the curse back to Voldemort, "defeating" him for the time being. Voldemort, or what was left of him, fled the house with the help of a few death eaters while the rest set about torching the place and its' inhabitants.

A baby's cry rang out amongst the crackling of the fire and a dark figure ran into the room where little Lyla lay in her crib, oblivious to everything that had happened that night, and grabbed her.

Lyla woke with a start and let out a piercing scream. She was covered in a cold sweat and tears were now running down her face as she recalled the contents of her dream.

The lights turned on and her guardian, Remus Lupin, ran into the room looking around frantically. He ran to Lyla's side and pulled her into a comforting hug while whispering soothing words to calm her.

When she was finally composed enough he let her go and sat next to her, on her bed, rubbing her back to keep her calm. He needn't ask what was wrong for he already knew. She had been having that same dream for as long as he could remember, sometimes they were worse than others like now for instance.

However he had still yet to tell her why that 'dream' haunted her, but he knew he could not postpone telling her any longer. She had to know the truth what with his new job starting at the end of the summer. She had to know everything, who and more importantly _what_ she was.

Remus looked over at the still shaking Lyla and decided that it wasn't the right time and although he continually asked himself when the right time would be he still decided against telling her that moment. He would wait till he actually had to take her shopping for her new school supplies in a few days.

There would be no turning back then, she would have too many questions that he would have to answer and if he didn't he had no doubt that she would either ask someone else or figure it out on her own. That was one of her qualities that he liked most. Her determination, Lyla would stop at nothing to achieve what she wanted. She was so much like her mother that Remus found himself tearing up at the thought but soon smiled at the realization that she was more like her father.

Lyla was always getting into mischief, but as she claimed it always found her anyways so why fight it. She drove her muggle teachers crazy, literally for the guidance counselor figuratively for the rest. For the most part it really wasn't her fault, there were just something's she couldn't control and didn't understand or know about to be able to, but of course that was Remus' blunder for not telling her everything, or anything for that matter.

Remus snapped out of his thoughts and looked down to find that Lyla had gone back to sleep in his arms. He smiled gently down at her, for nearly thirteen years he had been her guardian and somewhere along the way he had started loving her as if she were his own. He watched her sleep for a few more minutes before tucking her in and walking to the door. He turned off the lights and looked back at her one more time. It was then that he made a promise to tell her the whole truth, first thing in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

- Chapter 2 -

[Revelations

The next morning Remus found himself nervously pacing about the dining room awaiting Lyla's inevitably humorous wake up. Remus and Lyla always found new and inventive ways to wake one another up. Whoever slept late usually got the not so pleasant surprise.

Not this morning though. Remus had purposely let Lyla sleep in without any disturbances. He would feel bad if he did something after the awful night she'd had.

The entertaining part of the morning however was not in the wake up; no matter what Remus did to wake Lyla, she always made it all the more funnier trying to make her way down the hallway and stairs to the dining room. Most of the time she was still half asleep anyways so she constantly bumped into things; apologizing to them afterwards.

Sure enough, after not even five more minutes of pacing, Lyla started to make her way, surprisingly painlessly, to the dining room. Remus was a little disappointed that she was getting better at not running into things but smiled at her consistency for just as he thought that she walked into the door frame.

She mumbled a disgruntled, "Sorry," before continuing on her way. Remus pulled her chair out for her and helped her sit down before doing so himself, settling down across from her. They ate in silence, which was utterly rare for them; Remus was caught up in his thoughts of how to tell Lyla everything while she was analyzing her dream for the millionth time.

Lyla knew there was something unusual about her. She could do things that were unexplainable. Her dreams sometimes held memories or visions instead of her unconscious state of mind running wild.

With all that considered though, Lyla still couldn't determine why she had that dream so frequently. It couldn't have been a distant memory of hers for she was sure Remus would have told her by now so that was out of the question to her. She hoped it wasn't a vision, but how could it be? The thought was just preposterous, wasn't probable at all. The only possibility was her imagination and yet she refused to believe her subconscious capable of that kind of continuous torture to her mind.

Lyla looked up from her breakfast when she heard Remus clearing his throat. She smiled slightly as she remembered how he had always been there to comfort her when she awoke screaming or crying. He was the closest thing to family that she had and she loved him as though he were fully related.

Remus looked a little nervous to her, like he wanted to say something but didn't know what her reaction would be. Lyla put down her fork and looked him straight in the eye, "Ok spill, I know you've been trying to tell me something for like a week now so just say it already."

Remus looked taken aback that she realized what he was doing. He thought he was being quite inconspicuous at hiding it from her but then again Lyla was always very perceptive. Remus swallowed, trying to purge the knot from his throat that suddenly emerged with the sudden realization that he could no longer stall.

He took a deep breath before actually saying something, "I want you to know and understand that I had my reasons for keeping this from you." Remus paused slightly while thinking, 'Actually I was just a coward that didn't want you to have anything to do with that world,' to himself bitterly. "You have to understand Lyla, it was better that you didn't know all of what I'm about to tell you, but there's no way around it now."

Lyla sat staring back at him confused beyond words. He wasn't making any sense; all that she knew was that whatever it was he had to say it was a very serious matter and she had a feeling she wasn't going to like it one bit.

"You're a witch, Lyla." Remus didn't know what her reaction would be but thought it highly probable that she would laugh in his face. He wouldn't blame her for that; living in the muggle world all her life and not being exposed to magic at all except by cheesy TV shows and false stereotypes must make her a nonbeliever.

"Well that's not a very nice thing to say," she said a little hurt and confused as to why he was calling her that.

Remus shook his head trying not to laugh at the way she actually took the news. He should have expected something like that to come out of her mouth during a serious conversation, after all things like that frequently did more often than not. "That wasn't meant to be taken that way, Lyla. I meant it more for you to take it in the literal—magic powers—sense."

"Come again? I'm a what?" she asked staring blankly before doing just what he expected her to do the first time and busted out laughing. It wasn't possible, simply outrageous and she had to laugh at the thought again before quieting down and thinking it over.

It was possible, she had witnessed so many weird and inexplicable things that she just shrugged off or made up an explanation for but knew deep down it wasn't the right one. She had even done some of the things she tried explaining away and realized that Remus probably wasn't joking with her.

Remus sighed in relief that she had calmed down and continued, "I know that you probably don't believe me. The concept itself is very unbelievable—"

Lyla looked up at him and cut him off slowly drawing out her words, "No it's rather believable." She paused for a second and shook her head, "In fact I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before..." she trailed off as Remus sat there with his mouth hanging open, not comprehending the fact that she was taking it better than he thought she would. "Fashion tip, Remy. Mouth looks better closed." (A/N: I love that line...anyone who can tell me where it's from gets a cookie!)

Remus shook himself out of his shocked stupor, closed his mouth, and continued on with what he was saying, "There's more to it than that, Lyla." She looked up at him urging him to go on and he took an uneasy breath before doing so. "What I'm about to tell you, might come as a bit of a shock and most likely you will be down right ticked at me, but please listen to everything I have to say before yelling and interrupting which I'm fairly certain you will be inclined to do."

Lyla sat there for a second before slowly nodding her silent agreement. She didn't like that she couldn't say anything but was far more interested in what was going on to care about that little fact.

"You're a very smart girl Lyla, and I've no doubt in my mind that you've noticed that you're not like everyone else. You can do things that you can't explain and as I've told you that's because you're a witch as was your mother. I am a wizard as your father was also."

At the mention of her parents Lyla's head shot up from where it was laying on the table. Remus had never before mentioned her parents so she had no idea what happened to them or why she wasn't with them now.

Remus nodded and went on as if reading her mind, "Yes, I know I've never before mentioned them, but with all that has happened or has yet to happen I think it best for you to know." He paused yet again; it was obvious that this was hard for him to say.

"I went to school with your parents at Hogwarts. Your father and I were very good friends as was your mother and I. Your father, James, was an arrogant one, that he was, but he was madly in love with your mother, Lily. She, on the contrary, couldn't stand him, and one couldn't blame her, it's not that he was a bad person it's just that she couldn't stand his certain disregard for the rules and lack of sympathy towards others. If they were still here today I imagine James would be praising and plotting your next prank alongside you and Lily would be near somewhere scolding the both of you for your actions."

He smiled slightly, a bit teary eyed at the mention of what appeared to be his close friends. "Lily, obviously, somewhere along the way fell for James also and they were wed the summer after our 7th and last year at Hogwarts, and not too long after they were married, you and your twin brother, Harry, were born."

Lyla's mouth dropped at this and she felt the sudden urge to scream or say something but Remus put his hand up signaling for her to stay silent. "This is part of what you will most definitely be angry with." He took another deep breath, "Their friends were extremely happy for them and loved them a great deal..."

Yet again he paused and Lyla had a feeling that she wouldn't like what she heard next. "But as wonderful as your parents were, not everyone felt the same way towards them. A very powerful dark wizard in fact disliked them very much."

He explained to Lyla all about Voldemort and his Death Eater followers before getting back to what he was saying, "Voldemort and his followers tried to eliminate your family for more reasons then one but the main one that the Wizarding World has come to know was that your family strongly opposed him, which they did."

Little by little things were starting to click in Lyla's mind, and although the clicking was most definitely not welcome considering the circumstances, Lyla found herself wandering back to her earlier thoughts of her dream. She missed all the small unimportant details of that night which Remus was explaining to her; she had already known better than anyone else and didn't feel the need to be told what she'd already witnessed many times before.

She listened to him retell the happenings of that night and how it all came to pass. He told her of Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and their involvement in the whole thing and warned her of Sirius' escape from Azkaban, but that was the last thing she heard as she closed herself off in her thoughts.

Remus realized that she wasn't listening to him anymore and he sat watching the many expressions cross her face; waiting for her to react to everything. There was still more he had to tell her so he tried to get back her attention.

Lyla thought long and hard about everything he had told her and was about to start ranting when she heard Remus trying to get her attention. She looked up and figured he had more to say and gave her utmost attention. "Do you know why I often leave for a few days out of the month every month?"

Lyla had no idea what he did for a job only that it sometimes required him to leave for a few days at a time and that was the guess she told him. He always came back looking more tired and ragged than before and she worried for him, but asked no questions knowing from experience that it was an extremely touchy subject for him.

"It's not because of my job for I still can't reveal that." He looked like he didn't want to face what he was about to tell her was real and if she knew what it was when she was observing him then she wouldn't have blamed him. "I'm a werewolf, Lyla. I go away during the full moon to keep you and others around us safe."

He let that information sink in and Lyla was really freaked out at that point. Her guardian, whom she's known her whole life turned into a vicious animal, killing everything in its path for a few days every month. Who wouldn't be a little freaked by that? Though she had to congratulate herself on not openly showing that she was.

"There's still more, now that you've mentioned my work. I've recently been offered a new job to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so we'll be moving so you can attend there also."

This did not sit well with Lyla and Remus must've saw that she was about to get verbal with her anger for he decided to intervene. "You'll be able to finally meet your brother. He's in the same year as you will be going into. Although neither he nor anyone else knows you're alive, or that you were alive at one point, for Harry doesn't know he has a twin either, but we'll travel over that bridge when we get there. For now you shall still be going by my last name unless you want to use your mother's maiden name? We don't want any of the death eaters turned 'good' finding out that you're alive so which one would you prefer?"

Lyla thought it over and almost laughed at having to go on any longer with the name Lyla Lupin, it just sounded silly to her and she told Lupin the truth of it all. She didn't want to hurt his feelings after all and he understood and agreed that Lyla Evans sounded much better.

"Any questions, things you're not clear on or wish to know more about?" Lyla shook her head deciding that Remus was probably right not to tell her everything before it was truly necessary. "Very well then, we have exactly two months to cover two years of material you've missed and then some. When you're done with your breakfast meet me in the library where we shall begin your lessons."

With that said, Remus rose from his seat and walked around the table to give Lyla a hug sensing that she probably needed one at the moment before retreating from the room; leaving Lyla to play around with her food—her appetite had left her long ago—and rant in her mind about how much her life sucked with the new information.

'I have a brother, a twin brother, and I'm just finding out about this now? I'm a witch and part of a family that some psychopathic wizard that I've never even met wants dead. Some loony just made a record by being the first to ever break out of the Wizarding World's version of Alcatraz and I have to avoid him at all cost? I don't even know what the bloody guy looks like! Oh and wait the best part is yet to come...My guardian whom I trust above all else has been lying to me my whole life. He's seen what that dream has done to me and yet has said nothing till now?!'

Lyla let a tear descend down her cheek, she knew he only did it to protect her and was glad he did, she knew if he told her earlier she probably wouldn't have been able to handle it, but still it hurt that he knew what the dream that was hurting her really meant and yet he just casually stood by not saying anything till it became inconvenient for him not to.

Harsh words came to her mind and she was glad Remus wasn't there for if she saw him before she calmed down she was certain she would've said something she most definitely would've regretted later.

So she simmered down and made sure her temper was in check by stalling for time through clearing the table and washing the dishes. She thought more on everything that she had been told while finishing up the lasts of the dishes and putting them out to dry.

By then she couldn't hold it in any longer. She broke down right then and there in the middle of the kitchen and started sobbing. She didn't cry because she was mad or frustrated. She wept for her parents and never getting to know them. For the fact that her only memory of them was of the night they were murdered.

She wept for her brother and all the time they had lost to bond with each other. And lastly, she cried out of fear. She didn't want to die, she didn't know what the future held for her any longer but all she could see was that there was more pain to come.

Lyla pulled herself together after about ten minutes of getting everything out of her system. Strangely, she felt fairly calm. She was ready to face what ever came her way to the best of her ability. Everything was starting to put itself back into perspective and Lyla resolved not to back down.

She wasn't the type to give up and wasn't about to start then. She made a promise to herself, before she actually made her way to the library. Voldemort would pay for tearing her family and world apart; she would make sure of it.


	3. Chapter 3

- Chapter 3 -

[Squabbles Are Not For Tea Parties

The first month had flown by quickly, and little did Lyla know that that old adage would prove to be true, she did have fun, more fun then she thought possible whilst learning.

She had learned everything that was required of her, and more so, to gain admittance into Hogwarts. She particularly liked Transfiguration, she had a natural knack for it, DADA, obviously, and Potions, which had greatly surprised Remus for he knew she would most definitely change her opinion of the subject when she met her Potions Master.

Lyla had already had an unusual gift of clairvoyance and did not elect to take Divination in the upcoming year, stating that she had had enough of dreams screwing with her mind and had no desire to gain more, but had to despite her protests. That, however, was not the only argument to take place. She and Remus had engaged in more fights and arguments in that short time span than they had ever had in her whole almost thirteen years of her life.

Lyla wanted to take more classes than her time table would allow and protested that if the Wizarding World were so great it would have had something for time travel so she could make it to her classes. That argument however ended with Remus nervously changing the subject, which Lyla noticed but said nothing on.

They had already purchased all her school supplies at Diagon Alley, which Lyla found simply fantastic, early on that summer. Lyla got her wand from Ollivanders who was very curious about her and the wand that chose her. It was 10 inches of black yew with two magical cores, a Phoenix tail-feather and dragon heartstring.

He had been waiting for that wand to choose a witch or wizard ever since he opened his shop and that, as he stated, was a very long time ago. He kept commenting on how it was literally one of a kind, the wand simply refused to work without the other core.

At Eeylops Owl Emporium they didn't find an owl that Lyla liked but after a visit to the Magical Menagerie, she got very attached to this black-feathered green-eyed Phoenix. He was absolutely lovely but Remus said no to Lyla even after he saw that infamous smile of hers on her face when she asked for him. To tell the truth he preferred the Phoenix, they were more obedient by far and if ever needed would come to her rescue when he could not. Still at that moment he really couldn't afford it, especially after the spending spree in Flourish and Blotts.

At Flourish and Blotts Lyla went crazy. She loved to read and seeing all those books on various topics in which she wished to learn more about set her off on a reading frenzy. She had purchased so many books, most of which were not needed for her upcoming third year, that Remus didn't bother to check the one's she bought after he counted number 20.

All the excitement died down near the end of July, but with her birthday quickly approaching a new rather more important excitement consumed her. Her birthday was less than a week away and Lyla found herself giddy at the thought of the summer being halfway over. She had never been that excited to end her vacation for school but wanting to experience more of this new exciting world had her feeling pretty enthusiastic about it all.

There was, however, a small detail that Remus had forgotten to mention to Lyla. She recognized that no one knew she was still alive but she figured when Remus accepted the teaching position at the school that he would have informed them of the situation. Sadly though she was mistaken and found herself nervously pacing around her room, at the end of the hallway upstairs, which was coincidentally directly above the library where at any minute her future teachers would be arriving.

She was to stay in her room till Remus called for her, but even he couldn't expect her not to be curious in wanting to know what exactly was said. After all, they held her future education in their hands. It was up to them whether they accepted her into the school or not and she hoped they did. She was a little apprehensive at first about leaving her friends and starting up at another school but after getting some experience with magic she couldn't stay away from it.

Not only did Lyla want to know their decision, but also their reaction to exactly who she was and how she had survived. Up till then, from what she heard, her brother had been The-boy-who-lived, and she was the one who was forgotten in the cross-fire. What were they going to say when they found out? More importantly maybe they would give away more details about her life and destiny then Remus had been uneager to give.

Lyla stopped her pacing as several loud pops were heard from below her. Her initial thought was that the floorboards were giving in or something but after a few seconds of panicking, as she tended to frequently do while unsupervised, she calmed down and remembered reading something about 'apparating' being a useful way of transportation but that it was quite useless whilst in Hogwarts.

Voices murmured their greetings as Lyla realized with dread that the time had finally come. She silently made her way out of her room and down the hall till she came upon a door hidden by magic. When Remus was teaching her one day he mentioned that the house had magical secret passageways, not realizing then that Lyla would probably try and succeed at finding them and using them for her own mischief.

She stood in front of a blank spot on the wall and suddenly a door appeared and swung open. This was one of her favorite passages. All she had to do in order to get anywhere in that house was think of the actual place them voila instant door.

She had discovered the passage completely by accident. It was the first one to reveal itself and it happened while Lyla was leaning against it, upset at coming up empty handed in her search. She was thinking of going downstairs to beg Remus to tell her where some of them were when the door just magically appeared and opened causing her to fall through and down into his study.

As comical as it would've been to make an entrance like that Lyla didn't want her presence known that quickly. She quickly thought about the library downstairs before silently making her way quickly down to the storage closet in the library which conveniently enough was considerably close to where the sitting area was. Lyla pressed her ear up against the door and had no problem hearing the conversation. It was rather dull and filled with the preliminary greetings and catch up time between mutual friends and/or co-workers.

Lyla sighed in irritation. She figured they would have been through with that by then but was sadly mistaken as Remus chatted with them all and brought up old forgotten memories.

'Oh, get on with it already,' she thought to herself. As if reading her thoughts, a cold voice rose up against the rest, "Is there a particular reason you've brought us all here or were you just planning on wasting our time with your mindless prattle."

Lyla found herself smiling at these words, wondering which of her future teachers were clever enough to catch on that Remus was stalling again. He did that often when there was a topic he wished not to discuss. She heard Remus mutter something angrily to himself that she could not quite catch.

It was silent for a while and Lyla thought they knew she was there and were talking in hushed voices so she could not hear. She opened the door slightly to get a better view of everything and found that Remus and a tall, dark haired, hook nosed man, were glaring at each other.

She figured the dark haired man was the one who made the comment and laughed at her thought that he would look like Toucan Sam if his beak were rainbow colored. She quickly quieted herself as some of the people in the room looked around for the bodiless laugh. Remus however glanced at her hiding spot and sighed. He knew she was bound to do something like that.

He simmered down enough and both he and 'Sam' took their seats. "I asked you all here today to discuss a certain issue about a student. She is very talented and has just learned about her heritage. She has worked very hard, learning more than two years worth of work in one month. It is imperative that she attend Hogwarts for the rest of her schooling as I am her guardian."

'Sneaky little bastard! You better tell them or I will!' Lyla thought angrily before realizing that they'd most likely think her crazed, running out of the closet claiming to be a dead girl.

A very old, stern looking witch spoke up, "Who is this girl, Remus? And how come we've heard no word about this before?"

Remus took a deep breath and rose to his feet and started pacing, contemplating how exactly he was going to tell them. He stopped by the bay windows before he began to speak, "There's no easy way to say this, and I know most of you will not believe me but what I'm about to tell you is indeed true."

Remus tried looking for another way of stalling, but upon glimpsing momentarily at the curious and impatient faces, he continued on being blunt and coming right out with what he was saying. "Lyla Lily Potter was not killed nearly twelve years ago." The female Professors along with some of the males gasped at this information but commented none on it.

"Lily had placed a protection charm on Lyla, who had been in another room separate from Harry's, when Voldemort attacked," Lyla noticed some of the Professors wincing when the name was uttered and she rolled her eyes at them. She found it to be rather pathetic being afraid of a name. The actual person she could understand; if he was as great and terrifying as everyone seemed to think, but not his name. It was a stupid name in her opinion anyways.

Remus proceeded on to tell of how he had found Lyla and why he didn't notify anyone of her survival. A very old, grandfather looking wizard, with a long silvery beard asked this question. "I had just lost all of my best friends that very day. I was mourning and needed to care for something or someone so I would not become overwhelmed with grief. It was selfish of me to do so but I would not change a thing had I had to make the choice once again."

The old man seemed to accept this answer with understanding sympathy towards Remus. The room was quiet again as they all processed the new information. Lyla was getting impatient and started shuffling back and forth, not able to stay still.

She was quite bored and forgot she was supposed to be hiding. She didn't notice where she was stepping till she bumped into an empty bookcase which was unleveled and toppled over on her. It produced a lot of noise in the process, not only the crash, but Lyla's colorful use of the English language as well.

Every head in the room quickly turned towards the now opened door and Remus let out a choked laugh. "Couldn't just stay upstairs could you, Lyla?" Lyla groaned in pain as she crawled out from under the heavy bookcase before glaring at Remus.

She stood up and dusted herself off and made sure nothing was broken while angrily muttering to herself, completely forgetting that everyone could hear her. "You try staying away from a place where people you don't know are discussing your future, well past so far, to decide whether you'd be accepted into their school or not."

Lyla looked up and laughed nervously. She struggled out a strained smile and waved, "Hey everyone...forgot you were all there." Remus shook his head in amusement and introduced Lyla to everyone. She learned that the 'Toucan' man was her Potions Master, the stern witch would be teaching her Transfiguration and the old grandpa chap was Hogwart's Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

After introductions were done, no one said a word. They just stared at Lyla for a while in amazement, as if they were just taking in her appearance for the first time. She stood there, staring back at them, smiling awkwardly before jokingly asking, "Do I have something in my teeth or what?"

This seemed to snap them out of whatever they were in and Professor Snape sneered, "She may look like Lily but she acts like Potter."

Lyla could almost feel the hate emanating from him when he referred to her father and instantly decided that she didn't like this man. "Do you have a problem with my father, sir?" She ignored the look Remus shot at her as she tried to keep her glare to a minimum.

Snape raised an eyebrow while turning his head back to face her, "That is not a matter I wish to discuss at the present time." He shrugged off the question and went back to sitting quietly while everyone else was staring back and forth from him to Lyla as if watching an intense tennis match.

Lyla held back a smirk as what she was about to say popped into her mind. "Well then, until you do feel like discussing the matter, I suggest you don't bring it up again." Remus had by then given up trying to get Lyla to be quiet. He knew that if she and Snape were ever to argue that, both being as stubborn as they were, would not back down until they had 'won'.

Snape stood up and turned towards Lyla again before slowly making his way towards her, slowly drawing out his words. "Even if I wished to discuss it, it would not be with an impertinent child like you."

Lyla stopped a growl from producing sound, and settled for glaring at her future Potions Professor. She had liked the subject before she met the teacher. Now she could hardly stand it and she hadn't even had one class with him yet.

"I'll be thirteen at the end of this week, thanks. I'm hardly a child, and impertinent? I know I may be a bit cheeky and rude to certain people but not to those who've gained my trust and respect. People who make derisive comments and are exceedingly arrogant and not to mention ignorant to the way they come off to other people never do. You sir, as you can probably tell; have not and most likely will never earn my trust or respect. Get used to it now, because it won't change...even if you are my teacher." Lyla tried sounding as mockingly sincere as she could and loved the reaction that came after it.

Most of the teachers were shocked, to say the least, with how Lyla had spoken to Snape. Dumbledore and Remus were sitting down watching on, clearly amused and yet anxiously awaiting to hear what Snape had to say to her. Snape, however, was neither shocked nor amused.

His reaction was highly divergent from the rest. To put it simply, he was beyond words for how angry he was. He stood there on the spot sputtering like a fool, and trying to find the words to put the child before him in her place. But no words came to his mind. He sat down dejectedly as Dumbledore attempted and succeeded in bringing the attention back to the topic at hand.

"I see no reason why Miss Potter shouldn't be admitted into Hogwarts. She has proved more than capable with her way with words," Dumbledore paused while casting a laughing glance from Snape to Lyla, his eyes twinkling with mirth. Snape made to argue but Dumbledore went on, cutting him off before he got the opportunity, "But perhaps a little demonstration of skill is in order. Minerva, Filius, Severus, if you would be so kind." Dumbledore gestured for the three teachers, whose courses had been mandatory and main knowledge in her first two years, to set up their test stations.

Lyla suddenly felt about to pass out with how nervous she was. She knew the spells and potions better than anything, and yet with all the pressure on her, the knowledge seemed to escape her. The moment had finally come. Three tests to determine her future. Who could work or even think straight in those circumstances?

Professor McGonagall went first and requested that Lyla perform several transformations of an animal into an inanimate object, such as a book, chair and water goblet. Needless to say Lyla got through that fairly well and was rather proud of herself for not blacking out during it. Professor Snape was next and was far worse than McGonagall could ever hope to be.

Snape kept trying to get her to make a mistake but luckily he underestimated her potion skills. "The following ingredients make what potion: dried nettles, crushed snake fangs, stewed horned slugs, and porcupine quills?"

She answered almost instantly, "Boil Cure Potion," making Snape sneer in her direction.

"When do you add the porcupine quills?" he asked hoping she wouldn't know the answer.

Lyla smiled, catching on to what he was playing at, "After taking the cauldron off the fire otherwise it produces clouds of acid greed smoke and can melt the cauldron itself."

After almost a half hour more of Snape listing ingredients to potions and Lyla giving the name and description, Snape was getting impatient and irritated that Lyla was getting everything right. He couldn't seem to psych her out. Finally he settled for having her make a Swelling Solution and Deflating Draft to go with it and much to his displeasure, she did it perfectly. Snape grumbled angrily to himself as he sat down and glared at Lyla as she proceeded to her final test, Charms.

Professor Flitwick was a short and archaic looking man with a high squeaky voice that made Lyla smile. He required her to perform the basic charms learned in a witch's or wizard's first two years and she did them easily as well but decided to have fun with the last one. To test how accurate and strong her charms were, Flitwick asked Lyla to 'carefully' levitate something in the library.

Remus, obviously sensing it was a bad idea not to elaborate her boundaries, went to step in and point this out but by then it was entirely too late. He reasoned with himself, however, that it was fairly humorous anyway and it's not like the git didn't have it coming or hadn't been through something like that previously.

Lyla had already said the incantation and expertly swished and flicked her wand towards her un-expecting Potions Master, effortlessly levitating him and 'accidentally' twirling him around till he was suspended upside down in the air. Lyla didn't know her actions would have such a bad after effect or else she wouldn't have done what she did.

She was slightly giggling at the sight of her teacher hanging upside down but stopped short as she saw him shaking with suppressed rage. She quickly tried to gently set him down but in her haste inadvertently dropped him on his head. This, on any other occasion, would have been incredibly amusing to her and Remus. But considering who she was [related to and what she did, even though she didn't know he'd had a similar experience like that before, she just couldn't find the air to laugh.

Snape was up on his feet the second his body hit the floor, his wand raised and pointed at Lyla. Lyla stood there frozen to the spot, but found enough humor in the situation to throw down her wand and stick her hands up in the air. "If I had a white flag I would be waving it right now." She smiled a nervous cheeky smile as Snape glared murderously at her, contemplating whether or not he'd be fired if he cursed her right then and there.

Deciding that the time was not right yet, he put his wand back up his sleeve and stalked back to his seat. Dumbledore, once again being the voice of reason, stood up and suggested that no more arguments happen. Lyla noticed the look of respect in everyone's eyes as they listened intently to him. For being as antiquated as he was, he still had a presence about him that demanded notice and reverence.

Her future professor's and Headmaster were huddled in a corner away from her, discussing their opinions, while Lyla impatiently waited. She noticed Dumbledore listening and looking back and forth amusedly as an argument broke out between Snape and the other staff members. They finally seemed to come to a consensus and sat back in their seats as Dumbledore stepped up to Lyla to divulge their decision.

Lyla waited with bated breath as Dumbledore deliberately paused, dramatically drawing the outcome out as long as he possibly could. Lyla felt as though she were about to pass out with anticipation. Either that or scream out of aggravation.

She wasn't the patient type; she didn't like to wait for things to happen. She'd much rather make things happen. Always right to the point unless it wasn't directed towards her then she'd draw things out as long as she wanted, just for her own amusement more than anything else.

Dumbledore smiled kindly at Lyla and put her worries a little more at ease. For some reason she felt she could trust him with anything. This thought seemed outrageous to her considering she had only met him, but she pushed those thoughts aside and listened attentively.

"You've passed with flying colors, Miss Potter, as was expected of you. I am proud to say that you will be attending Hogwarts this Fall." Snape grumbled something, most likely a deprecating statement aimed at her, under his breath, but Lyla took no notice of him or anything for that matter.

She couldn't believe her ears. She thought for sure she would have failed, and yet there she was. Standing there, unable to move or utter a single word, literally stunned at her new Headmaster's words. She was going to Hogwarts to become more adept with her newfound talents. More importantly, she was going to meet her brother for the first time in her life.


	4. Chapter 4

- Chapter 4 -

[Scare Tactics

p The end of July came up rather quickly and before either Remus or Lyla knew it, it was her birthday. Lyla had been on an unnatural high that previous week, thanks to the knowledge of having been accepted into Hogwarts, that she hardly paid attention to the days going by. It was only when she woke up late in the afternoon on the 31st of July that she noticed. /p 

p Remus never let her sleep in that late unless she were ill, had the dream again with the added bonus of it being worse than ever before (which was still frequently happening despite her knowledge of the truth), or it was her birthday. She ruled out the other two options and smiled to herself while quickly getting ready for the fun-filled day ahead of her. /p 

p Remus was waiting for her downstairs with her favorite breakfast, even though it was well past morning, of: waffles (chocolate syrup and whip cream included), Canadian bacon and eggs. After Lyla ate until she could barely move, Remus was a very good cook; they took off for their destination: Diagon Alley. Lyla and Remus planned on spending the rest of the day together, then at night Lyla would get to do whatever she wanted as long as Remus didn't find out about it. /p 

p They reached Diagon Alley and after a few hours of casually browsing stores Remus took her to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor for, what else, ice cream. Lyla was a big fan of sweets and loved the new and exciting flavors they had to offer. Remus left a few minutes after getting Lyla settled with her triple fudge Sunday, to take care of some business. Lyla didn't bother to ask what kind of business since Remus was still a little secretive when it came to his work. /p 

p A little over fifteen minutes later, Lyla felt something heavy land on her shoulder and startle her out of her day dream. She looked up and saw the same beautiful black-feathered green-eyed Phoenix she had wanted her first trip to Diagon Ally. She looked around and spotted Remus beaming at her bright and smiling face. /p 

p The Phoenix took off and landed on a silver perch Remus had in his hand as Lyla nearly knocked him to the ground from the impact of her hug. Remus laughed as he hugged her back, he did very much love to see her happy, and would do nearly anything to keep her that way. They broke apart from their hug and Lyla took the post back to the table and started petting the beautiful creature. /p 

p Remus looked on, proud of himself, before making his way over to her. "Thought of a name yet?" he asked while taking a seat across from her. He sneakily stole some of Lyla's Sunday and she playfully scolded him. /p 

p She sighed, still with a smile on her face and said, "I think I'll call him, York." She said the name a few times, testing it out before smiling and nodding her like of it. 'York' seemed to approve of the name as well and nipped at her dark red hair affectionately. /p 

p Remus watched as Lyla and York bonded with each other. He thought the name a bit odd. The name York in Latin did mean from the Yew tree, which was said to have poisonous thorns. And now that he thought about it, he remembered her wand being made from a yew tree as well. Of course there were many other things that could be connected with that but Remus decided not to think too much on it and focus more on Lyla. /p 

p She was so happy with her new friend that she didn't go anywhere that day without him, which for her was a good thing as well. Remus had some more business to attend to later that night and Lyla didn't want to go home that early so he allowed her to stay later after showing her how to floo back home. Needless to say she didn't like that mode of transportation too much but agreed anyway, wanting to look around in all the shops a bit longer. /p 

p She passed by a dark looking alley and curiosity once again getting the better of her she went down it. The shops had many weird, and not to mention gross, things in them. In the window of one store, if you could even call it that, were shrunken heads, shriveled hands, and other dirty looking items that Lyla didn't want anything to do with. /p 

p She went to turn around when she was forcefully pulled into an even darker alley between the store and a local pub. She tried to scream but a hand was clamped harshly over her mouth, muffling any attempt at sound she made. The man, or whoever/whatever, it was smelled of some rank malt beverage. Lyla's oxygen was running out, she tried as hard as she could not to breathe out of her nose for every time she did the stench of her attacker would make her nearly spew her ice cream. /p 

p She couldn't move her arms; they were tightly secured behind her back. She managed to move her head slightly and got a faint look at her attacker. He was taller than her by a lot, and wore what looked like raggedy prison robes. His eyes were a pale gray that were sunken into his head and his hair was long, shoulder length and very dirty. /p 

p He looked wildly at her and Lyla shuddered in fear. When he caught a glimpse of her face though, his grip loosened and he looked confused. Lyla took this opportunity and wrenched her arms free. Unfortunately he was faster than her and caught her again but in the few moments she was out of reach and able to speak she screamed as loud as she could which only resulted in him laughing manically at her. /p 

p What was she thinking? Screaming for help in a place like that? She sighed in defeat and hung her head feeling as though she were about to cry. A piercing shriek filled the air, though, and Lyla's head turned up towards the sky. She smiled in relief as York shot through the air like a bullet, claws outstretched and aimed at her captor. /p 

p The man cried out in pain as York fiercely attacked him. He released Lyla in a failed effort to get, in his words, the bloody bird off of him. Lyla backed up into the side of the building and watched as something amazing, in her opinion, happened. /p 

p The man had turned into a huge black bear-like dog and was retreating off further down the alleyway away from her. Perplexed and yet relieved that he was gone Lyla turned and mutely thanked York before deciding it was well past time to head home. /p 

p When she arrived home Remus called for her from the library, where he spent most of his time. She walked in, still shaking from the earlier events, and he took notice of this immediately. "Lyla, are you alright?" he asked, concerned for her well-being while guiding her to a chair. /p 

p It took a while before she could speak again but when she did she quickly let out everything that had happened. Remus let the information settle before getting into his lecture, "Why were you in Knockturn Alley in the first place? Didn't I tell you how dangerous it was down there, especially if anyone figures out who you really are?" /p 

p He got up and started pacing still talking, not letting Lyla get a word in. "What were you thinking? You could have gotten seriously hurt, possibly even killed. Promise me you'll never go down there again." /p 

p Somewhere during his ranting Lyla had started silently crying. The realization that she could have died had just hit her and made it all the more real how dangerous her life and this new world actually were. Remus stopped pacing and turned to face Lyla when he got no reply. His face softened when he caught sight of her tears. /p 

p He made his way over to her and pulled her into a safe and comforting hug that he was famous for in her eyes. Lyla cried even harder now, not silently anymore however. "I was so scared, Remy. I couldn't get away from him, he wouldn't let go. I really thought I was going to die there." /p 

p "Shh...Calm down Lyla. He's not here. He can't hurt you, I won't let him or anyone else hurt you." This seemed to be the magic words and Lyla was able to calm down to minimal sobs and wails. /p 

p She sniffled lightly and looked up at Remus, who looked down at her also. "Can you do something for me Remus?" she asked her voice quivering, eyes filling with unshed tears. /p 

p Remus nodded his head. He would do anything for her, anything to keep her safe and happy. He had vowed to do so when he took her into his care. /p 

p She sniffled once more and sat up, "Can you teach me to defend myself? Not just the magical way but the muggle way as well. I don't want to feel that helpless ever again. We still have a month left before school starts. I promise I'll work really hard and--" /p 

p Remus cut her off, "Of course, Lyla. I already planned to do so when you told me what happened." Lyla smiled, her eyes shinning brightly amongst the tears that had still yet to fall. /p 

p She hugged Remus tightly and said her thanks. Remus laughed and said, "We shall begin tomorrow. I expect you to be up bright and early so go on to bed now." Lyla had no arguments about that command, already being exhausted from the day's events. She headed upstairs to her room as Remus stared into the fire replaying memories over in his mind and contemplating what his lesson plans would be for the next month. /p 

p The rest of the summer went by with Lyla and Remus waking up early every morning and going to sleep very late at night. The time between was spent learning defensive and offensive spells, which were a lot easier than Lyla thought they'd be. For the muggle way of fighting, Remus conjured up fake opponents for Lyla to fight and test out moves on. He realized that she was getting stronger and didn't want to be the one she tried moves out on. He would have if the after effect of intense pain wasn't there. /p 

p Most of the training went well; Lyla learned all physical muggle fighting maneuvers and most of the spells. She still had a long way to go before she was an expert but she was progressing quickly. Most being said because she couldn't seem to perform this one particular spell right. All the rest she got perfectly, right away but this one was giving her problems. /p 

p Remus was concerned for Lyla's safety at Hogwarts after learning that Azkaban's Dementors would be on the grounds till they found Sirius Black. He decided to teach her the Patronus Charm so she could defend herself against them in case they were to go after her. That however did not turn out as well as he'd hoped. /p 

p She couldn't seem to get more than a wisp of silvery smoke and that wasn't nearly enough to drive away a Dementor. Every time Lyla would try the spell she would fail. Remus didn't blame her though; most skilled Witches and Wizards could barely make the spell work either. /p 

p Lyla refused to give up until she had gotten more than a wisp of smoke. She wanted to be able to do this spell and for some reason was obsessed with getting it right for the rest of the summer. Unfortunately for her, it seemed the harder she tried the worse her results would get. /p 

p It was the last day of vacation and Remus had given Lyla the day off from training much to her displeasure. She insisted upon having another go at the Patronus Charm but Remus paid her no attention. She kept bothering him until he told her to go into Diagon Alley for the day because he had some more 'important' business to attend to. /p 

p Lyla knew he was only saying that to get rid of her but left none the less. She opened her window to let York out before flooing to the Leaky Cauldron. She made her way out back and to Diagon Alley just walking around not really intent on buying anything. /p 

p Later that afternoon Lyla found herself browsing around the Magical Menagerie, looking at all the beautiful and mysterious animals. One in particular caught her attention, and although most wouldn't consider him all that good-looking, Lyla included. However she was still fascinated with the creature. He looked like an ordinary cat but Lyla could tell right away, for some strange reason that he wasn't. /p 

p She stayed staring at him for some time while the witch behind the counter talked with her wizard customer on the care of double-ended newts. The wizard left shortly after that and it was then that Lyla noticed three other presences in the store, two boys and a girl which looked to be around the same age as her. /p 

p The girl had bushy brown hair and brown eyes and seemed to Lyla to be really stuck up. Or at least that's the way she came off to Lyla. The boy standing next to her was tall and lanky with ginger hair and lots of freckles. Neither of them struck Lyla more than the last boy. He was taller than her but shorter than the other boy. He had emerald eyes that were hidden behind the rounded spectacles adorned on his face. His hair was moderately short, black and not to mention very untidy. /p 

p Lyla froze as she gazed unblinkingly at him. It couldn't be...but he looked so much like him. The resemblance was uncanny. Apart from his eyes he looked exactly like her father, who she's only ever seen in her dreams. Lyla broke out of her thoughts in time to stop herself from running over to this mysterious boy and hugging the life out of him. /p 

p She smiled as she realized who he was. It was obvious to her once she thought things out rationally. Happiness swelled inside her as she watched her brother and his friends shop. She broke her gaze however when the 'cat' she had been watching leaped from its perch to the red-head's head. /p 

p The boy screamed in pain before screaming out, "Scabbers," and running out of the shop, with Harry not far behind. Lyla, wanting to get another glimpse of her brother, followed after them. They stopped at a bin outside of Quality Quidditch Supplies and the red head retrieved his shaking and not to mention sickly looking rat from under it. /p 

p Lyla pretended to look through the window of the shop at the newest broom, Firebolt, display while actually listening in on their conversation. She learned that the girl they were with was named Hermione and made a mental note to herself to stay away from her at all cost. There was just something about her that Lyla didn't like. /p 

p She didn't have time to think on that for she had to duck into the store to avoid Harry and his red-headed friend who almost ran right into her. She waited a few more minutes, making sure the coast was clear, before heading back to the Leaky Cauldron to floo back home. /p 

p When she reached the Leaky Cauldron, Harry, his friends and more people with red hair that Lyla assumed were related to Harry's friend, were there greeting him. Lyla smiled as she saw this exchange, he had done well for himself friends wise. They seemed like very nice people. /p 

p Lyla watched them for a few more minutes before actually going home. When she arrived there she ran around excitedly trying to find Remus. She had to tell someone about what happened and who better than her best/only friend and guardian. /p 

p Remus sat reading in the library most of the day. He was worried for Lyla's safety, not so much about the Dementors but more so about what could happen to her if anyone found out who she really was. Many of the Death Eater's children went to Hogwarts and could easily find out and tell their parents. Remus was starting to think going to Hogwarts wasn't such a good idea but all those thoughts seemed to disappear as he heard Lyla's excited squeals and footsteps drawing nearer to where he was. /p 

p Lyla threw open the door and ran up to Remus, speaking so quickly that Remus barely caught one word rather than her whole story. He did however gather that something good had happened, which was painfully obvious even to the most oblivious person. Lyla took a deep breath, realizing that Remus probably couldn't understand a word she had said and started over from the beginning. By the time she was finished Remus was smiling slightly, happy for her and yet relieved that she did not approach Harry. /p 

p Lyla spent the rest of the day lounging about, no longer interested in training. She was too busy basking in glee to recognize anything else she probably should have been doing. It was only when Remus asked her if she had everything packed that she broke out of her daydreaming and started panicking. /p 

p Truth was she hadn't even started packing. She was always a procrastinator and that tended to get her into trouble more often than not. She jumped up from where she was hanging upside down on the couch and rushed up to her room where she started rapidly throwing things around everywhere in a botched effort to get organized. /p 

p Remus had followed her upstairs and was leaning against the doorway to her room, watching amusedly as she rushed around. "You do realize you have plenty of time," he said calmly as Lyla stopped her movements and glared over at him. He was still smiling teasingly at her, loving how fast her moods could change from peacefully relaxed to a hysterical panic attack. /p 

p "This isn't funny you know! Do you even realize how long this will take me to sort out?" She gestured around her room, which could be described as a possible danger zone. Clothes were strewn everywhere, over chairs and lamps, but mostly on the floor. That was the location of most of the items she wished to take with her to Hogwarts. /p 

p Remus casts one last amused glance at her before making his way back downstairs, leaving Lyla to sort out her mess. It took nearly most of the night but she had eventually folded all her clothes and put all her accessories and school supplies into neat and separate piles. /p 

p She placed her clothes and everything else she wanted to take in first then set about trying to fit in her supplies, books and other reading materials she thought were interesting. Lyla glared at her Unfogging the Future textbook that would be used for Divination. Her opinion of the subject hadn't changed very much at all; she still didn't want to take it and resented the fact that it was mandatory for her. /p 

p Lyla placed all her textbooks and supplies, save for her wand, in her trunk before collapsing on her bed. She probably should have looked where she was lying for as soon as her body hit the bed she was jumping off it. She looked at the sleeve of her long sleeved shirt, it had been torn and part of it was hanging limply from her wrist. /p 

p She glared at her bed where the culprit was staring its beady little black eyes tauntingly back at her, of course that was probably just her imagination though. Her textbook for her Care of Magical Creatures class had bitten her. She laughed as she thought of the task before her: getting the Monster Book of Monster's into her trunk with out loosing any fingers. "This is going to be tricky..." Lyla muttered to herself trailing off in thought as the Monster book went after her pillows. /p 

p "Hey, cut that out, I need those! Cut it out!" Lyla lunged for the book tackling it off the bed. She landed with a loud and painful thud but continued to wrestle with the book until she finally managed to get her pillow out of its 'mouth' before wrapping one of her leather belts around it. /p 

p In her haste to get her pillow away from the Monster book she didn't notice Remus standing in her doorway once again. He had heard the scuffle and went to investigate. He thought something was actually wrong and was relieved to find out that it was only Lyla fooling around. /p 

p He held back a laugh as he cleared his throat to get her attention. She was sitting on the book smirking triumphantly at her accomplishment. She looked over at Remus when she heard him and blushed faintly in embarrassment. He laughed and helped her stuff the book in her already full to the brim trunk. /p 

p "Well...that was invigorating. Let's not do that again sometime," Lyla said as she once again collapsed on her bed, this time without a nasty surprise waiting for her. /p 

p Remus shook his head at her while walking out of the room. It was getting to be very late into the night, or early in the morning which ever way you looked at it and he told Lyla that she should get some sleep. "We have to leave early tomorrow if we want to make it to the train on time." /p 

p Lyla rolled her eyes and reassured him that everything would be fine. Remus however was a tad doubtful. He retired to his room and went to bed all the while grinning to himself. He knew what he was going to do in the morning. He also knew very well that Lyla was not going to like it one bit. /p 


	5. Chapter 5

- Chapter 5 -

[Of Greetings and Goodbyes

p Lyla woke from her slumber screaming, but something was different. This time she wasn't screaming because of her dream, it was the shock of freezing cold water being poured on her that brought forth the shriek. She quickly sat up and in a shivering, clearly irritated voice asked, "Was that truly necessary?" /p 

p Remus nodded with a satisfied grin decorating his face. He got her good and was proud of himself for that alone. However what was most likely his biggest mistake was that he neglected to realize that the wheels in Lyla's brain were already formulating a plan to get back at him. /p 

p Remus walked out of Lyla's room to let her get ready and she groggily did so after realizing she couldn't go back to sleep. One reason being the fact that she was soaked, the other being that she promised herself she would get some sleep on the train. Despite the unwanted cold shower she was still rather unsteady, and as was expected, bumped into anything in her way including her trunk which she had somehow managed to stub her toe on before tripping and falling flat on her face. /p 

p Remus walked by her door just to make sure she didn't kill herself and laughed at the state she was in. "Not too graceful today are you Lyla?" He had to dodge a fairly heavy book, that hadn't been packed, before the last words even left his mouth. /p 

p Lyla grumbled something about pesky guardians getting what's coming to them before successfully making her way, without any problems this time, to the bathroom. She emerged nearly an hour an a half later with her dark red hair flowing down her back in tiny box braids, which most of the time they were nearly always in. /p 

p She was clad in her Hogwarts attire, which she absolutely detested. She was firmly opposed to uniforms. She complained that her own individuality was being suppressed by the horrid article examples they liked to call clothes. /p 

p Remus ignored her complaints all the way to King's Cross station till they reached the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. Lyla looked at her ticket completely baffled. She tugged at Remus' sleeve and said, "I think I have the wrong ticket. There isn't any platform 9 and 3/4." /p 

/p Remus looked at Lyla slyly and asked, "Do you trust me Lyla?" /p 

p Lyla answered instantly, "I'll always trust you." Remus smiled and was about to go on with what he was saying but Lyla cut him off, "Except for when you ask me whether I do or not." /p 

p Remus' smile faltered and he laughed, "What gave me away?" /p 

p Lyla raised an eyebrow at him, "Besides the fact that you look like you're up to something undoubtedly no good." She smirked at him before going on, "I know what that face looks like, trust me I've made it a million times before." /p 

p Remus shook his head, "I'm sure you have, but, seriously now," Lyla rolled her eyes but complied. "It's fairly simple actually. The only tricky part is not letting the Muggles see you do it. They'd ask too many questions and bring a lot of unwanted attention. Where was I...Oh right of course! To get to the platform you have to run straight through the wall separating platform 9 and 10 from each other." /p 

p Lyla was listening intently up till the part where he told her to run into a wall. She may have done some pretty stupid things in her short life but at least she had enough sense about her to know not to run into painfully solid objects, purposely that is. "Sorry Remus, but a concussion is not high on my to-do list today." /p 

p Remus sighed and looked her straight in the eye, "Trust me." Lyla knew he wouldn't make her do anything that would get her hurt but still the prospect of running into a fairly (ok more than fairly), solid wall was very disconcerting. /p 

p Deciding to trust Remus on this one, Lyla gulped nervously before getting a running start and closing her eyes before she hit the wall. When no negative impact came, she slowly opened her eyes and sighed in relief while moving out of the way as Remus made his way through. He gave her the told-you-so look and guided her onto the train and to the very last compartment. /p 

p Not even five minutes after being on the train Remus had fell asleep. This agitated Lyla to no end. Now who was going to keep her company during the long ride to Hogwarts? She decided since she was sleep deprived, thanks to Remus, she would get some sleep but that was easier said than done. /p 

p Lyla was the type of person who couldn't stay still or in one place without doing something for too long. Seeing as there was nothing to do, she decided to have a little fun and meet some of her fellow classmates. She got her bag of 'supplies' or as Remus liked to call it 'Lyla's bag of Mischievous Mysteries'. Lyla smiled as she thought of the name Lupin had christened her bag and the memory of why it was named that. /p 

p Remus knew her supply bag was not a good thing, especially if Lyla had it with her when she was bored. However no matter how hard he tried, even i _with /i _ magic, he could never catch a glimpse of what was in it. Unless of course he was one of her test subjects, but those were the times he didn't want anything to do with the bag. /p 

p Lyla had almost everything a prankster dreamed about in it. Everything she could possibly need for her fun was right at hand. She could even fit more than physically possible in it thanks to her magic knowledge. This was probably her favorite use of magic out of everything else possible that she could accomplish. Mischief making always ranked number one in her book. Of course with the new variety of Wizarding pranks at hand to her could play a big part in her decision making also. /p 

p Lyla left a note for her dear old friend when he woke up before she departed to search the train for friendly faces. Since it was still early hardly anyone was their yet, a few compartments had early risers occupying them but they looked dull to Lyla. Nevertheless Lyla had a fun time setting up surprises in a few empty compartments. (Mischievous little bugger isn't she?) /p 

p Lyla soon reached the last compartment, near the front of the train. She was starting to lose hope that someone interesting was onboard so she was overjoyed to find that there was indeed someone remotely remarkable looking in there. /p 

p The girl had stunning blue eyes and shoulder length black hair with bright red highlights running through it. That was probably the deciding factor to Lyla's 'interesting' theory. Having added black tips to the end of her own hair earlier that year, much to the displeasure of Remus, Lyla liked anyone who had an appreciation for unusual hairstyles and colors. Not that theirs were bizarre or anything, it was just not of the norm and Lyla liked that most of all. /p 

p "'Ello," she greeted cheerfully. "You mind if I sit here, all the rest are empty, or void of anyone interesting, depends on how you look at it? I'm kind of new here." /p 

p The girl looked up at Lyla a little confused and stuttered out her response. "N-no not at all, please take a seat." Lyla did so and stared at the girl before her momentarily. She looked nervous, like she didn't now how she should act. /p 

p She looked to be about Lyla's age and despite her silence Lyla thought happily, 'Yay, new friend, first friend, but still, new friend!' Lyla waited a few more minutes for her new companion to say something but that proved to be fruitless. She made no move to talk; just shuffled in her seat uncertainly. /p 

p This amused Lyla more than she would ever admit, but she didn't want to come off as mean so decided against mocking the poor girl. She settled instead for making a joke of the current situation, "I'm not going to bite if that's what you're worried about." Of course that still could have been considered mocking but it worked. /p 

p The girl smiled slightly, revealing straight and perfect teeth. "Sorry, I'm just not used to people talking to me. My name's Rylie." /p 

p "What do you mean not used to people talking to you? You go to Hogwarts; people must talk to you there," said Lyla a bit confused by what she meant. /p 

p Rylie shook her head no, "Most people there don't notice me, uh, not that I mind though. The few encounters I have had with them have ended badly. But mostly people don't notice me because I don't want to be noticed. I'm not very good socially." /p 

p Lyla shrugged and said, "'Ya seem fine to me." Rylie smiled kindly at Lyla, "Let's test this further shall we...My name's Lyla." She put her hand out and Rylie grasped it firmly in a handshake. "Well I don't see a problem with your social abilities, and as one loner to another, I think you're doing remarkably well considering you've never met me before in your life." /p 

p This seemed to break the ice as Rylie laughed and actually brought forth another topic of discussion, instead of waiting for Lyla to ask all the questions. They talked for nearly an hour on various topics, most of which had to do with school: the teachers, students, and classes. /p 

p Rylie seemed particularly pleased to note that Lyla was in her third year along with her. Her eyes brightened significantly as she spewed out question after question as fast as she could. "What house do you want to be in? Why did you transfer here? How do you like it so far?" /p 

p Lyla laughed at her new friend's sudden energy boost, "Well Remus said that I'd probably be in Gryffindor and I want to as well for more reasons than one...I don't really know how I like it so far. Mostly because so far all I've seen is the train. Not that I don't like the train because it is a rather nice one that it is." /p 

p Both Lyla and Rylie laughed at this before Lyla went on answering the questions to her 'interrogation'. "To answer your other question, my guardian, Remus, is the new Professor there and he dragged me along with him. Don't think that it wasn't willingly though 'cause it was, believe me it really was." /p 

p Rylie looked at Lyla with surprise clearly written across her face. "Whoa, the new Professor is your guardian? How can you stand to live with him? I mean, I'm sure he's a nice guy but still. Most of the Professor's are old, strict and not a whole lot of fun to be around." /p 

p Lyla laughed at her description of Hogwarts staff; she had met them over the summer and had to agree somewhat with her generalization of them. "He's not so bad trust me, he's a nice guy, moderately old but not ancient or anything. He tries to be strict but that seems to fail him when it comes to me. I am a very persuasive person after all. Best of all he's a whole lot of fun to be around, when he's not throwing ice cold water on you, stupid jerk." Lyla added that last part as an undertone but loud enough for Rylie to hear and un-decisively laugh. "Don't fret; I'm sure his class will be a blast, especially if I'm in it." /p 

p Rylie chuckled at the big grin that spread across Lyla's face at her last sentence. She was prepared to have fun at Hogwarts and nothing was going to stop her. Especially not rules for she never abided by them when she thought she was an ordinary muggle. Why would she now with her knowledge of all her possibilities? /p 

p Compartments were starting to fill and the noise of students greeting each other flooded into the compartment as Lyla and Rylie sat in a comfortable silence. Lyla started fidgeting in her seat, she was ok with not talking but just sitting there with nothing to do was starting to work her nerves. /p 

p "So...why were you here so early?" Lyla asked breaking the silence. She was starting to get bored again and didn't want to scare her new friend off so quickly. /p 

p Rylie smiled sadly, "My parents have been waiting to get me back to Hogwarts all summer. They wanted me gone as quickly as possible, hence the early arrival." /p 

p 'Well that explains her inferiority problem.' Lyla thought to herself completely missing Rylie trying to get back her attention. Lyla shook her head and looked back up at Rylie who looked a little concerned. "Did you say something?" Lyla asked sheepishly. Rylie tried not to laugh at Lyla and shook her head yes. Lyla smiled apologetically, "Sorry I kind of zoned out there for a second. I tend to do that a lot." /p 

p Rylie chuckled slightly, "It's quite alright; I do that quite often myself. So why were i _you /i _ here so early?" /p 

p Lyla grumbled angrily to herself and shivered as she remembered what happened earlier that morning. "My guardian's a bloody sleep Nazi that's why." /p 

p Rylie looked at Lyla questioningly, "How is he a sleep Nazi?" /p 

p "He committed mass genocide on my beauty sleep! And he gets to sleep now while I'm stuck wide awake." Lyla calmed herself down a few seconds after she ended her rant and smiled deviously. "Oh well no matter, he should know better then to leave me unsupervised anywhere with my bag full of goodies." /p 

p Rylie looked at her apprehensively, not really wanting to know what she did but thinking it wise to be informed. "What'd you do?" she asked fearing the worst. /p 

p Lyla smiled at her innocently, "You'll see, but a word of advice. If you hear any screams be sure to keep a safe distance away from them." /p 

p Rylie nodded knowing not to ask anymore questions. She'd just have to find out when the time came. When it did, she knew it was going to be good. /p 

p The compartment door slid open and two red heads looked in. "Hey, you two mind if my brother, Oliver and I sit here? Everywhere else is full." Lyla wasn't surprised that there were no more available compartments; it was after all almost time for the train to depart. The girls shrugged and said it was ok with them and one of the twins shouted down the hall, "Oi Ollie, over here!" /p 

p Rylie and Lyla watched silently as the newcomers settled in then introduced themselves. "I'm Fred," said one of the red heads, the one who had asked if they could sit with them. /p 

p "I'm George," said the other red head. /p 

p "And we are...The Weasley twins!" they announced together. /p 

p The girls laughed and Lyla turned her attention to the other boy. "Whoa," she whispered breathlessly. /p 

p The boy was extremely attractive; the others weren't bad looking either, but in Lyla's words he was drool worthy. "I'm Oliver," he said extending his hand out to her. /p 

p 'Oh, accent! I'm melting already.' Lyla squealed in her mind. "Lyla," she replied while placing her hand in his. /p 

p He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it while looking in her eyes and saying, "It's a pleasure." /p 

p Lyla bit her lip and smiled nervously. She was trying not to listen to the voices in her head. They were currently telling her to do all sorts of things that would most likely scare the poor guy away. 'Not like he was helping any with those to-die-for eyes and that accent!' /p 

p Rylie introduced herself then turned towards Lyla who had moved to sit next to her when the guys came in. She whispered into her ear so the guys couldn't hear, "The Weasley twins are a couple of jokesters. I'd watch out for them if I were you." /p 

p Lyla smirked before whispering back her reply. "You might want to warn them about me." /p 

p Rylie shook her head a bit before resuming her warnings. "The heartthrob over there is Gryffindor's Keeper and captain of the house team. Don't get too close to him or most of the girls in the school i _will /i _ hate you." /p 

p "I really wouldn't blame them. I'd hate anyone who took this guy off the market too. I mean, look at those muscles." Lyla sighed dreamily before both of the girls broke out giggling leaving the guys across from them confused. /p 

p The train left the station just then and Lyla stared out the window, silently saying goodbye to her old life and awaiting the chance to greet her new one. /p 


	6. Chapter 6

- Chapter 6 -

[Chocolate and Confiscations

p Fred and George Weasley, as Rylie had told Lyla, really were big into mischief. They kept Lyla in stitches with tales of all the tomfoolery they'd done. Lyla particularly liked them as they reminded her of herself. More so, however, she silently thanked them for taking her mind off her nerves. /p 

p She was dreadfully nervous about everything that would soon happen. How Harry would react to everything, whether or not she'd be accepted by everyone. The one thing that had her really unnerved more than anything was the thought of the dangers her life was now in or would be in if her true identity were revealed to the wrong sort. /p 

p Lyla shook her head of all thoughts revolving around and gave her attention back to the twins who were currently trying to teach her how to play Exploding Snap. Lyla was really enjoying the game but wasn't the least bit disappointed when a loud chorus of screams disrupted it. /p 

p Everyone in the compartment went quiet. Rylie was looking suspiciously over at Lyla, who was smiling back innocently. Oliver stared amusedly over at the twins as they looked at each other and at the same time said, "You pulled a prank without me?" /p 

p They were pouting at each other, obviously hurt by the thought of the other doing such a thing, but their expressions soon donned a confused one. Lyla's smile grew bigger as she watched the guys run off to see what had happened. /p 

p The girls sat in silence for a few minutes, Rylie still throwing suspicious glances at Lyla who just smirked back in reply. The guys came back just as Rylie opened her mouth to say something. They looked to be near tears from laughing and praising the genius who accomplished such a feat. /p 

p This didn't stop Rylie from asking the question Lyla knew had to be coming. "Now that we've heard the screams of our fellow classmates, and seen the impression left upon the two biggest trouble makers at Hogwarts, why don't you tell us what you did?" She was trying to act serious but was failing horribly thanks to the smile that was tugging at the corner of her lips. /p 

p The guys had by then stopped their laughing abruptly and stared in shock at Lyla as if she had more than one head. Lyla shrugged nonchalantly, and replied, "I got bored and can't be held responsible for my actions. I had this bag just begging to be shared with the world and I just couldn't stop myself." /p 

p The twins and Oliver had snapped themselves out of their shocked state. They looked at her with an amazed and admiring look upon their faces and Fred asked, "You pranked Malfoy and his gang?" /p 

p She nodded and watched as once again huge grins spread across the guys' faces. Oliver stayed silent but was impressed all the same while the twins vocally praised her. "Bloody brilliant," they said ending it all. /p 

p Lyla meanwhile was smiling and accepting all the praise with open arms while wondering who the heck this Malfoy character was. When everyone had settled down Lyla had voiced her question, this lead to everyone telling her how awful he was, who he was related to, and how he was Harry's worst enemy at school. Needless to say, at hearing everything, she didn't like this Malfoy guy at all. More so than that, she couldn't wait to see how well she got him with her prank. /p 

p It had gotten dark out and somewhere along the way rain started to pour unmercifully outside as the train made its way unchallenged to its destination. Lyla had a wonderful time laughing with her new friends and also at them, mostly at the twin's countless failed attempts at trying to catch a look at the contents of her bag. They were beyond curious to know what other 'surprises' she was hiding. /p 

p They had left, however, soon getting undoubtedly bored with not getting anywhere. Oliver had left earlier on to visit his friends, as was the twin's excuse also. Rylie and Lyla were left once again in comfortable silence. /p 

p Rylie was staring out into the darkened sky while Lyla amused herself with the book she had earlier thrown at Remus. There were still many things to which Lyla hadn't a clue were even possible. The book was showing her some of the more advanced magic, like conjuring. This was a very useful skill for what she wished to accomplish later that night. She had practiced the skill early that summer but did not get far with it; however she did happen to manage conjuring what she would need for that evening. /p 

p Lyla looked up from the fairly large volume when the train slowly pitched to a stop. She looked up, clearly confused and asked, "Are we there already?" Rylie stared back at her and shook her head negatively. The rain and wind outside the cozy train was still raging on and Lyla was not inclined to want to leave the warmth of the compartment. /p 

p She was thoroughly curious by then however and had gotten up to look out of their compartment. She had just opened the door when the train lurched forward and she flew backwards into her seat. Lyla, finally irked at the events, got to her feet once again when all the lamps suddenly extinguished. /p 

p "Wonder what's going on," she heard Rylie mutter, still looking out the window, this time trying to see what the hold up was. Lyla asked if she could see anything but she shook her head no. /p 

p Lyla sighed, annoyed at her ignorance of what was happening. A few minutes passed before Lyla rose again and made her way to the already opened door. "I'm going to find out what's going on. You stay here alright?" Rylie tried to protest against her going alone but Lyla shot her a look that shut her up. /p 

p Before she reached the door though, she felt the temperature start to rapidly drop. She looked back at the once rain splashed window only to find that it was covered completely in frost. Rylie and Lyla shivered from the lack of heat that was engulfing them. She ignored the obvious clues and turned to leave again, but something was blocking her way. /p 

p A tall, cloaked figured towered over her, it was too dark to see its face but Lyla guessed that she most likely didn't want to. "A Dementor," Lyla gasped out, realizing immediately what it was, even though she had never encountered a real live one before then. She stumbled back against the window opposite the compartment door and stared in horror as it reached a sickly grey skeleton-like hand after her. It realized she was out of reach and approached her, gliding gracefully, reducing the space that separated them. /p 

p Lyla, panicked inside as she tried to recall where she had last left her wand, while outside she retained her calm façade. She discretely reached a hand into the right pocket of her robes and sighed in relief that she had been correct in her guess. She was about to pull it out and get rid of the creature when it took a deep breath. /p 

p Instantly, Lyla felt light headed, the cold felt more unbearable and each breath she took strained itself against her lungs. She leaned against the window more to support her for she felt her legs were unreliable at that point. It took another breath and it was then that Lyla realized she could hear someone screaming. At first she thought it was Rylie but then realization struck her. /p 

p She was reliving the night of her parents murder once more. She felt immense hatred towards this creature; it was one thing for her mind to torment her because it was a part of her, there was nothing she could do about that, but this thing had no right doing whatever the bloody hell it was doing. /p 

p Lyla focused her mind on any happy memory she could grasp and instantly that day in the Magical Menagerie came to her. She remembered how she felt when she saw Harry for the first time and focused solely on that. Lyla raised her wand weakly and, with as much force as she could, shouted out, "Expecto Patronum!" A blindingly bright white light emitted from her wand and the dark creature shrieked and retreated. /p 

p Lyla didn't have time to see what shape her Pratonus took for the spell had taken a lot out of her. She slid to the floor, no longer to able to keep herself standing as Rylie rushed to her side. Her words were jumbled to Lyla and she could not comprehend any of what her frantic friend was saying. She was too preoccupied at that moment with staying conscious. /p 

p Rylie eventually gave up and sat back in her seat, staring at Lyla and willing her to make some kind of response. It only fueled her worries more when she didn't. Lyla just sat there, staring blankly at the door, one thought going through her mind: it worked. /p 

p For most of the summer she had worked diligently, wanting beyond anything to get it right. And then when she had finally been up against the very thing she needed that spell for, she couldn't help but doubt. She doubted herself capable of accomplishing the spell. /p 

p She was very proud of herself. Proud that she had accomplished what so many witches and wizards had failed to do. More than anything she was relieved that she was able to drive the Dementor away before it got bored with her and turned on Rylie. /p 

p The sound of the compartment door sliding open knocked her back into reality. Somewhere along the way the lamps had been relit and warmth returned to their compartment. The storm was still on a rampage outside and they were back on their way to Hogsmeade station. Lyla slowly raised her head and locked eyes with the worried pair of her dear old friend and guardian. /p 

p "Lyla, are you alright? Speak to me. What happened?" If he had looked bad when they arrived on the train it was nothing compared to what he was like at that moment. His hair was disheveled; clothes wrinkled and seemed more worn then before. His eyes were bloodshot and not filled with the usual mirth and joy that Lyla had come to know him to have when around her. /p 

p Lyla shook her head once more, trying to reduce the pounding in her head. She took a deep shaky breath before answering, all too happy to note that she could finally breathe fully once again. "Dementor," she said as if it answered everything. To Remus it did and Lyla knew she needn't say anymore but found herself unable to shut up as she somehow found the energy to enthusiastically recount her take on earlier events. /p 

p "I must say Remus, that nifty spell you taught me really did come in handy," she said smiling at his opened mouthed state. /p 

p She was about to tell him, once again how unfashionable that was when he closed it and smiled. Remus was shocked, to say the very least. He hadn't expected her to accomplish the spell at all. He smiled and pulled Lyla into a very, nearly bone crushingly, strong hug before praising her in pleased disbelief of everything. He wanted to ask her what her Patronus was, for that matter, he was probably more curious to know the memory she chose, but alas he could not for he noticed she was not alone in that compartment. /p 

p With some help from Remus, Lyla got unsteadily back to her feet and sat down, still not trusting her legs to keep her standing. Remus handed chocolate to her and Rylie and Lyla took it, thanking Remus before biting into it. She instantly felt the warmth spread through her still cold body and smiled at the feeling. /p 

p Still, quite contently, munching on chocolate Lyla gazed around the compartment till her stare fell upon her visibly shaken companion. Rylie was noticeably paler and looked extremely worried. She had not even touched her chocolate, but after seeing Lyla smile and assure her that she was indeed fine she looked to have relaxed a bit. Even took a hesitant bite of chocolate. /p 

p She vaguely heard Remus muttering to himself and turned her attention towards him and clearly caught his words. "Now why would the Dementors only attack Lyla and Harry?" He had obviously not intended for Lyla to hear him but she did and was anxious to know more information. /p 

p Remus explained what happened and Lyla was beyond relieved to hear that Harry was alright. She was just about to go see him but stopped before she was even out of her seat at the look Remus gave her. She knew it would raise too many questions if she barged into his compartment and hugged him or something along those lines which she was prone to do. It was already a tense moment with Rylie watching on, wondering where Lyla was trying to go off to. /p 

p Lyla plopped back down after making it seem like she was stretching so as to quell any questions that may have arisen. She watched Remus glance questioningly at Rylie before asking, purely to make conversation, "I see you've made a new friend already. Care to introduce us?" /p 

p Lyla rolled her eyes at his not so subtle attempt at taking the attention away from what had just happened. She shot Remus a look before she, not as enthusiastically as she would have earlier, said, "Remus this is Rylie. Rylie this is Remus, Professor Lupin, or my personal favorite: the sleep Nazi!" She made sure to chuck that one in before throwing another look his way that clearly said she had not forgotten, nor had he expected her to. /p 

p He laughed at her nickname for him all the while wondering what else she might think up to call him as the year progressed. "It was nice meeting you, but I really should be heading back. I expect we shall be arriving soon," he trailed off a bit at the end but smiled and left their compartment. /p 

p Lyla laughed to herself and counted down, "In five...four...three...two...one--" She had not even gotten one all the way out when Remus came back into the compartment. /p 

p He gave her a hard look and said, "I'll be taking your bag and putting it in a safe place, along with your wand until after the welcome back feast." Lyla smiled innocently, she knew he was planning on doing that and handed her supplies over after placing her book in it and being careful to ask Rylie for her wand to secure her bag so only she could open it. "And your wand," Remus said forcefully, not wanting her armed while with the first years, but more so unarmed during the feast when she was sure to strike. /p 

p Lyla rolled her eyes at him and said, "It's in my trunk." /p 

p Remus suppressed a grin as he reveled in finally catching Lyla in one of her schemes. "Then how pray tell were you able to repel that Dementor?" A smirk found it's way across his features, "I've caught you this time, haven't I?" /p 

p Lyla knew what he was doing and she wasn't about to fall into the trap and give up her wand. It was far too valuable to her plan. She anticipated Remus to try something like that and answered smoothly. "Sorry to disappoint you Remy, but you haven't caught me in whatever it is you're suggesting." She smiled innocently hiding any trace of deviousness in her, "I used Rylie's wand, and you saw me use hers when sealing my bag. Now why would I use her wand if I did in fact have my own with me, answer that for me my dear?" /p 

p Remus knew Lyla had to have been feeling better for she was back to her old sneakily cheeky ways. However he had no proof that she was lying to him other than the obvious fact that she was but that wasn't tangible enough to be used against her. He left anyway after glancing suspiciously at her one last time. He expected the sorting ceremony and feast were not going to end well, at least not for him. /p 

p Lyla smirked as the figure of her guardian retreated. She was thinking of how much fun it would be when she saw his face after what she would do. She looked over at Rylie who was frowning slightly also giving her the suspicious looks that were reserved for Remus only. "Even though I've only known you a few hours, it's been long enough to know when you're up to something," she said then waited for an explanation that was not going to come. /p 

p Lyla laughed and said, "You'll see what I'm 'up to' at the feast, until then I regret to inform you that I'm closed for information." The train slowly coaxed to a stop once again and the nauseas feeling of little creatures flying around her stomach came back with more muscle than before. /p 

p The girls departed from the train and made their way to the carriages. Well, Rylie went to a horseless carriage; Lyla on the other hand was forced to endure the long, cold and sodden journey across the lake with the first years. /p 

p They looked so scared and Lyla had to every so often hold in a laugh. She was actually thankful that Remus had taken away her bag. She knew she wouldn't have been able to restrain herself from doing something to the unsuspecting first years. /p 

p Lyla heard the gasps of the children around her and looked up as her jaw dropped open in awe of the sight before her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear Remus mocking her, "Mouth looks better closed," but she didn't have time to laugh or think on that. /p 

p She had just gotten her first look at Hogwarts; she had read about it before but never imagined it to be that big. She couldn't believe she would be going to school there, she could already imagine getting lost in one of its many corridors. /p 

p Soaked to the bone and freezing, the new first years and Lyla made their way to the entrance hall where they were greeted by a tiny man. Lyla recognized him as Hogwarts Charm's teacher, Professor Flitwick. /p 

p He smiled kindly at her before addressing everyone else. Lyla made her way to the back of the line; she knew she would be the last one sorted so it made sense. While back there, before she made her way with the rest of the group into the Great Hall, she did a small drying spell so she wouldn't be shivering. /p 

p Lyla looked around the Great Hall with a smile on her face, she had read about the ceiling being bewitched, but thought the book didn't do it justice. She smiled and waved at her friends as she passed. She noticed a few students throwing glances her way and whispering to one another. /p 

p She zoned out not paying the least bit attention to anything around her after the Sorting Hat sang its song. She was worried about not getting into Gryffindor, well that and busy making faces at the twins, no doubt making her peers think her a bit odd. /p 

p "Lyla Evans!!" shouted Professor Flitwick, his face red from the strain of yelling. Lyla smiled apologetically at him. Dumbledore had already announced that she was new and in her third year, but Lyla was too preoccupied to notice. She glared playfully at her friends, who were silently laughing at her. /p 

p She took a seat on the three legged stool and placed the hat on her head. She jumped when it started talking to her, "Ah! Miss Potter. Extremely intelligent I see, but not really interested in the hard work it takes to be in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Very brave and loyal to those you deem worthy a great characteristic for Gryffindor but then there's that sneaky troublesome side of you. A tad smart mouthed too aren't you? There's always Slytherin...

you would be very powerful there, quite tempting isn't it? You have a thirst for revenge that has not yet been fully revealed and yet you do not desire ultimate power. I must say you really are most difficult to place..." /p 

p The sorting hat stayed quiet for a while and Lyla was beginning to think it had fallen asleep. "No comment on where you wish to be placed?" She jumped as its voice entered her mind once again. /p 

p "I didn't realize I had a say in where I was put," she said nervously. /p 

p "Of course you do! Your brother is where he is now because he chose it, I see no reason why you shouldn't be able to do the same." /p 

p Without a moments hesitation Lyla said, "Gryffindor then." /p 

p "If you're sure..." it asked trailing off awaiting confirmation from her. She nodded and it went on, "Then it'd better be...Gryffindor!" the Gryffindor table burst into applause as Lyla made her way to the table. She noticed the Weasley twins were out of their seats jumping up and down holding each other and pretending to cry from being overjoyed. /p 

p Lyla smiled at them and sat down between Rylie and Oliver as the twins took their seats on the opposite side of the table once again. "What a bunch of knuckleheads," Lyla whispered to Oliver and Rylie, referring to the twins previous antics. Oliver laughed while the twins smiled brightly at the complement. Rylie just sat back and smiled at her new friend, glad that they were in the same house. /p 

p Lyla looked up as she saw someone pass by behind the twins and smiled at the sight of her brother. She was no longer nervous for the sorting ceremony was over. She relaxed a little and turned her attention towards Dumbledore who was addressing the school. He talked of the dementors and Lyla groaned as she heard that they would be stationed at the school on Ministry business. /p 

p She couldn't help but be upset with this. If they were there because of Ministry of Magic business then why were they attacking her and Harry? No answer came to her mind as she listened once again to Dumbledore continue with his announcements. /p 

p "On a happier note, I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," said Dumbledore as he politely applauded along with the rest of the staff. Most of the students were lazily, obviously uninterested in the news, clapping along. Lyla on the other hand was quite enthusiastically clapping for her guardian and scowling at anyone who gave her weird looks. /p 

p Dumbledore went on to introduce Rubeus Hagrid as the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher and the hall broke out in cheer. Lyla assumed that this man was very well liked, especially by her house mates. She cheered along with everyone then settled down while Dumbledore finished and made food appear everywhere. /p 

p Lyla was a little surprised to see everything just appear like that but told herself that she would have to get use to unusual things happening. She ignored her food for the time being and took out her wand, prepared to make her move. She conjured a bucket of ice water and moved it over the unsuspecting Remus. No one had noticed anything strange until with a flick of her wrist Remus was doused and screaming. He jumped out of his seat as Lyla put her head down on the table so no one could see her laughing. /p 

p The Great Hall had suddenly grown eerily silent as she looked up. The twins had shocked looks on their faces. They couldn't believe Lyla had the guts to do something like that. They admired her talents for her prank on Malfoy and his followers but this one was beyond that. /p 

p Dumbledore stood once again, his eyes sparkling and with a hint of a smile forming on his face asked, "Anyone care to explain what just happened?" Naturally, no one dared to move let alone utter a word. /p 

p Lyla snickered to herself smiling innocently at Remus who was staring straight at her. "It looks to me like Remy got ice water poured over him," she said quietly so only the people around her could hear. Unfortunately one of them was that Hermione girl she saw with her brother and the red head at Diagon Alley. She had arrived late and missed the sorting ceremony along with Harry but were both briefly introduced. /p 

p She glared at Lyla, "The Sorting Hat must have been wrong to place you in Gryffindor, especially if you did something like that to a teacher." /p 

p Lyla rolled her eyes at her, knowing already that she was right in her assumption that she wouldn't like the girl. "It's really not any of your business, so why don't you keep your brown nose out of it," she said calmly smirking at her reaction. /p 

p She opened her mouth in shock then closed it before opening it again as if she were going to say something but decided to just glare at Lyla and turn back to her friends. Lyla's smirk turned into a satisfied smile as Rylie whispered in her ear, "That was great!" Lyla figured she didn't like Hermione all that much and really couldn't blame her. She needed to learn not to cross Lyla or else there would be trouble, Lyla could guarantee it. /p 

p Lyla heard someone snickering and looked up to see who it was. Turned out to be one of the people in Malfoy's gang, or so Lyla assumed him to be. She had to admit he was fairly good looking or would be if most of his head wasn't tye-dyed pink and purple. She stifled a laugh as she looked up into his icy eyes. She raised an eyebrow at him, as if to ask what was so funny. /p 

p "I hate to say it but I think the mudblood's right. You don't belong in Gryffindor. Slytherin would be so much better for you," Lyla rolled her eyes at him before what he had said fully sunk in. /p 

p She shook her head and hissed dangerously at him, "It's not any of you business either so keep out of it!" /p 

p His expression changed from the smirk he was wearing to a shocked one, apparently not expecting Lyla to speak to him that way. He glared at her but said nothing as he turned back to his friends. Remus had explained earlier that summer what the word meant and Lyla didn't like it one bit. Even if Hermione was hard to get along with, she still didn't deserve to be called that, no one did. /p 

p Lyla looked back up towards Dumbledore as he was about to punish everyone for her prank. He said it 'showed disrespect' towards their new teacher and would not stand for that. Lyla began to feel a bit guilty, she didn't want everyone to get in trouble; she just wanted to get back at Remus. /p 

p She was about to admit it was her when Remus spoke up, "Don't punish everyone for a simple joke Lyla pulled. Besides I did deserve it." He turned to face her and asked, "Are we even now?" She smiled deviously but nodded her head while she said softly, "For now anyway." /p 

p Dumbledore smiled slightly at the exchange before telling everyone to get back to the feast. The twins commended Lyla on a job well done. They couldn't believe she did that in front of the whole school, got caught, and still managed to stay out of trouble. /p 

p "I think I'm in love!" said Fred as he stared at her dreamily. /p 

p Lyla laughed as George smacked his brother upside his head, "I saw her first!" /p 

p "Did not!" /p 

p "Did too!" They went on like that for a while till Lyla told them to knock it off. /p 

p Throughout the rest of dinner she kept feeling like someone was watching her and every time she looked up it was that same guy from Slytherin with the tye-dyed head. Yet even when he turned away she still felt like she was being watched even though she couldn't find the person that was doing it. /p 

p 'Great Lyla, you've not even been here a day and you've already managed to make two trouble making pranksters fall for you, or so they say. Get revenge on Remus for this morning, which might I add was priceless. Get a new snobby know it all enemy, along with a couple of stalkers, go you!' Lyla sighed and thought, 'I really need to stop thinking.' /p 


	7. Chapter 7

- Chapter 7-

[What's His Problem?

Harry sat with his friends at the start of term feast after the entertaining display his new housemate had just put on. He was to say the least impressed. He admired her for her daring and felt intrigued to know her more.

Hermione on the other hand already couldn't stand the poor girl. The whole way up to the common room she spent going on about what a 'horrid girl' Lyla was. Harry figured Hermione just wasn't used to being put in line like Lyla had done. She just had to get over it and used to it for Harry could tell that it wouldn't be the last time Lyla would put Hermione in her place. He felt a little guilty about anticipating when that would next happen but shrugged it off knowing it would be worth it.

Ron agreed with Harry for the most part although he didn't like the fact that she was friends with his older brothers. From what he had seen so far nothing good would come out of their friendship, nothing good for him at least.

He put those thoughts aside as others filled his mind, of course the subject was still the same. Lyla, why did she look so familiar to him? It was like he had met her before and yet could not recall from where or when.

"Ugh! Why would the Sorting Hat put a girl like her in Gryffindor? She's absolutely horrid! We'll never win the House Cup again for sure! She'll have teachers deducting points left and right," Hermione was still ranting as they finally reached the still open portrait of the Fat Lady.

Ron and Harry had kept quiet the whole way, deciding it best not to comment on the subject, but Ron probably forgot that. "Maybe he saw some thing good in her that you're missing." Hermione glared back at him as he went on. "I mean she can't be all that bad. Look at Fred and George, they're troublemakers just like Lyla and everyone loves them."

Hermione kept her glare fixed strongly on Ron before she walked through the portrait hole, leaving the two boys behind, not saying another word. Ron looked over to Harry and rolled his eyes before realizing that his friend wasn't even paying attention. "What's wrong Harry?"

Harry shook his head to get his thoughts back, "Nothing. Just thinking is all." Ron gave him a skeptical look but kept quiet about it. He probably thought his thoughts were filled with worries about Sirius Black when in fact he hadn't thought about that since before he met Lyla.

Harry walked into the common room with Ron. It was nearly empty except for Oliver and the twins who were entertaining two girls, one he didn't recognize, the other, the girl who hadn't left his mind all night. Oh and of course, can't forget Hermione.

She was sitting on one of the arm chairs, a book in her hand, but it was obvious to anyone that she wasn't reading it. She was glaring over the top of it at what appeared to be the rest of the common room but Harry knew better. He knew she had her scowl fixed solely on Lyla.

Lyla looked up and gave Harry a small smile which he returned with one of his own. Harry thought for a fleeting moment that Lyla might like him and was about to go over and talk to her having gathered the courage to do so. But something stopped him.

Oliver Wood, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, was staring unblinkingly at Lyla. Harry thought it a bit odd when he had first saw him there. He had never before spent time with the twins outside of Quidditch, but the reason he was there was all too clear to Harry. He liked Lyla and Harry was slightly disappointed. He knew he couldn't compete with Oliver.

He was about to just give up and go to sleep when Professor McGonagall walked through the portrait. "Potter, Weasley, Granger, you three need to report to the Headmaster's office, right away now follow me."

They were all befuddled about the reasons for the urgent visit with their Headmaster but followed in silence none-the-less. Not bothering to ask any questions for they knew McGonagall wouldn't respond, whether she knew the answers or not.

McGonagall left them to carry on to the Headmaster's office after giving the password to the gargoyle that was guarding the winding staircase. Once in Dumbledore's office the trio noticed their new DADA professor sitting down next to the desk where a pacing Dumbledore was behind.

He looked deep in thought about something, which Harry figured was the reason they were there. The only acknowledgment they received from him, letting them know that he did indeed noticed they were there, was a wave of his hand motioning them to sit in the three chairs he had just conjured up.

Dumbledore stopped his pacing and sat behind his desk, still deep in thought. Harry tried to get his attention, "Dumbledore sir?"

He looked up and basically out of no where asked, "What do you three think of our new student?" Harry could hear Hermione mumble something incoherent under her breath, which was most likely a negative comment aimed at Lyla's character.

"I think she's bloody brilliant!" said Ron enthusiastically which only resulted in Hermione's incomprehensible mumbles to sound more furious.

Harry laughed a bit at this, but quickly covered it up making it seem like he was clearing his throat. "She seems really nice and from what I've witnessed so far, fun to be around. Why do you ask?" Harry couldn't for the life of him think what Lyla had to do with them.

Dumbledore took a deep breath and let it go in a sigh. "Harry, there's something we need to tell you. And since I knew Ron and Hermione would find out from you anyway, I saved you the trouble. But more than saving you the trouble, I prevented any unwanted ears to hear this information."

Dumbledore rose to his feet and toddled to the open window, staring up into the blackened sky as he spoke. "Remarkable girl, Lyla is. At the beginning of this summer she had thought herself to be an ordinary muggle, but Remus has informed her and myself along with the rest of Hogwarts' staff that that is not so. In less than a month she has proven herself to be up and past our standards of expectations for third years and has learned everything and more than you three had in your first two years here. But that is not the reason I have asked you here."

Harry looked around for the brief second that Dumbledore had paused. He was impressed by her abilities though not as much as Ron or Hermione were. Ron sat listening to every word, his mouth hung opened and eyes bulging. He was probably shocked more than anything else. He had grown up around magic and struggled for those two years Dumbledore referred to, while it only took Lyla a month to perfect it all. Less than a month!

Hermione had an expression on her face that differed from Ron's entirely. Her eyes were slightly narrowed, fore head crinkled and her mouth was drawn so tightly together that Harry thought it rivaled even McGonagall's stern features.

Rival was the right term for what Hermione was probably thinking. She was far from impressed. She was doubtlessly angry that there was someone else in Gryffindor that could compete with her on an intellectual level.

Harry looked back towards Dumbledore, who was staring back at him waiting for his attention. "I know this may be a bit hard to believe, Harry. But..." he paused and Harry felt like shouting for him to just spit it out. He was sitting on the edge of his seat already as he waited. "Lyla is your twin sister Harry."

Harry didn't comprehend what Dumbledore had said for a few tense and silent moments. Ron and Hermione had gasped in shock of the information while Harry just sat there looking confused. Lyla? The same Lyla he thought might like him? His sister? How on earth could she be his sister and he not know about it?

His feeling of confusion soon died away only to be replaced by anger as he glared up at Dumbledore reaching his own conclusions. Harry stood up quickly making his chair loudly skid backwards. "Why haven't I heard about her before? How come you never mentioned her, or told me?!"

Dumbledore put his hand up in an effort to calm Harry down. "I didn't tell you because I didn't know."

Harry could tell that he was telling the truth, "Well then how do you know she's my sister? She's not in any of those pictures I have."

Dumbledore looked over to Professor Lupin as he spoke up, "The night your parents were killed and you were sent off to live with the Dursley's everyone thought Lyla had been killed as well. Even Voldemort probably thinks he had rid himself of yet another Potter." Ron and Hermione flinched at the mention of Voldemort's name. Harry didn't say anything though. He kept listening not letting anything interfere with his intake of information.

"I arrived at the house, about to leave once I saw the damage when I heard your sister crying. I managed to get her out of the house and took her with me. I knew Dumbledore would never let me take care of her if he knew she was alive so I told no one until I was offered this job. I couldn't keep the secret anymore, especially from Lyla since she had to come with me." Lupin paused and looked at Harry smiling in silent apology, "She's been dying to meet you ever since I told her the story I just told you."

Lupin's story seemed believable and Harry was just in shock, the reality of it all just then hitting him. He went from being alone without a family—the Dursleys didn't count, they didn't consider him family especially not after what he did to Aunt Marge—to having a twin sister in a matter of minutes.

Even with all that evidence Harry was still curious. Thirteen years and not knowing he had a twin was something that needed a thorough explanation. "How come there was never any talk about her even dying?

Dumbledore decided to answer this question, "I think that perhaps people were too preoccupied with celebrating the fact that Voldemort was gone and praising you as 'The-boy-who-lived.'" Harry nodded, understanding how that could happen and retreated back into his mind wondering what he could possibly say to Lyla.

The trio left Dumbledore's office and headed back up to the Gryffindor common room. The walk was silent; Ron and Hermione most likely figured Harry needed some quiet time to think. They walked into the now deserted common room and Harry walked up the spiral stairs with Ron after saying goodnight to Hermione.

Harry entered the dorm he shared with Ron and three other boys, he was content to just go to sleep thinking about the news he'd just received when a thought occurred to him. He jumped out of bed—Ron and the others were already asleep—and reached into his trunk. He pulled out an old photo album he'd gotten from Hagrid his first year there.

Dumbledore and Professor Lupin hadn't answered his question about why Lyla wasn't in any of the pictures there but when he took a look at them again he figured it out for himself.

A picture of a couple holding two babies in their arms and smiling and waving at the camera was the first thing he saw. When he'd first seen the picture it was only him in his mother's arms but now his father was holding another child...his twin sister.

Harry flipped through the album, looking at the now unaltered pictures. He figured the album had a spell on it to erase Lyla from it till he learned of her for there she was on every page he was. Their father was always the one holding her though and Harry suspected that if their parents were still alive, she'd be daddy's little girl and he'd be considered a momma's boy. No matter how much the title made him cringe, Harry smiled sadly wishing that was how it had actually turned out for them.

As Harry lay in his four-poster bed that night he felt relieved to be back where he consider home, more so because he now had a sister to share it with. He resolved to himself, before drifting off to a pleasant dream of getting on a broomstick once again, that first thing in the morning when he saw Lyla he would make an attempt to talk to her. Then make it painfully clear to a certain Gryffindor captain and any other male at Hogwarts that looked twice at Lyla to keep their hands off.

Lyla went to sleep that night in anticipation for what the next day would hold for her, but woke up in the same way that she had become accustomed to minus the screaming. She looked around, breathing hard while her vision cleared to reveal that most of her housemates were gone, including Rylie.

She was about to go back to sleep, grumbling about what a nice friend Rye was for not waking her up—sarcasm must be noted in that—before she realized that the first day of classes was that day, and also Harry finally knew the truth. Apparently her studies were not her motivation for she realized that first and still didn't jump out of bed till Harry crossed her mind.

After taking a shower and leaving her hair down, in braids once again, and dressing in her uniform wondering whether or not she'd get in trouble for refusing to wear them, she left her dorm and made her way to the Great Hall for breakfast. The Great Hall was practically full with students mulling about, some comparing class schedules, others eating, some falling asleep in their porridge, which would have been Lyla had she not been fully awake.

Lyla looked around the Great Hall, searching for her friend and spotted her, barely awake enough to eat anything, sitting near the middle of the Gryffindor table. Lyla took a seat across from her glaring playfully. She decided to have a little fun that morning and Rylie was a prime target, friend or not. Rylie noticed her presence and looked up nervously, sensing her friend's discontent.

"Er...Hi Lye," she said looking around making sure to avoid eye contact.

"Hey Rye, you know the most interesting thing happened this morning." Rylie looked up curiously as Lyla went on, "I woke up to find everyone already gone, and no one had even thought to wake me up. Now I ask you, what kind of supposed friend does that to a girl who has hardly been here a day and would most likely get lost, not knowing where anything in this place is."

Lyla put her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking; she looked like she was crying when in reality she was cracking up. Rylie started apologizing profusely, worried that she actually made her friend cry. Lyla put her hands down, huge grin spread across her face as she said, "Glad to know you care Rye!" before loosing it and having a laughing fit.

Rylie scowled at Lyla for making her feel guilty before returning to her food, more awake than she had been previously. Lyla glance around the Great Hall in search for Harry but was disappointed at not finding him.

She did however see Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin guy with the pink and purple head—though it was beginning to fade—surrounded by his fellow Slytherins. The twins pointed him out to her during the Feast the previous night and she was satisfied with the results of her prank.

Lyla caught him staring at her a few times again like the night before and thought it a bit creepy but didn't say anything. It was too early for a fight and all Lyla wanted to do was eat her breakfast. Halfway through with her meal she felt someone tap her shoulder.

She turned around while swallowing the remains of her waffles, to see Harry and his friends standing there—most likely for moral support. "Hi Lyla...um...can I talk to you in private for a second?" he asked softly, she could tell he was nervous and in all honesty, so was she.

She smiled, excused herself from everyone and followed Harry out of the Great Hall. Lyla noticed Draco, pause momentarily from his antics of making fun of Harry. He looked back and forth from Lyla to Harry, confused as to what they were doing together. He ended his stare as they walked through the door, his heated glared fixed solely upon Potter, who he felt was moving in on his territory. Lyla of course witnessed all of that and although she didn't understand most of it, chose to pay no attention to him none-the-less.

Once they were sure no one was around, Lyla waited for Harry to say something, but he didn't seem so keen on talking at the moment. Lyla decided to lighten the mood and in an attempt to break the ice said, "You do realize that when you asked to talk to me in private, I actually expected you to...you know...talk."

Lyla laughed a little as did Harry and that seemed to do the trick to get them talking. "So you're my sister huh?" Lyla smiled big and nodded, Harry laughed while he asked, "Who's older?" effectively wiping the smile off her face.

She crossed her arms and grumpily replied, "You by a minute." Harry laughed and made a joke about protecting his little sister. He made sure to put special emphasis on little. They laughed and proceeded to talk about their lives and what they've missed of the other's.

"Breakfast is almost over, you want to go back in?" she asked noting the time that had passed. She hardly even noticed; she found it ever-so easy to talk to him that everything else seemed to just have just dissipated from existence.

Harry agreed stating that he was still hungry as they walked back into the Great Hall together. Before splitting up to go off with his friends, Harry surprised Lyla by hugging her tightly. She smiled and hugged him back as he whispered into her ear, "It's nice to know I'm not alone anymore."

Holding back the flood gates of happy tears, Lyla beamed up at Harry brighter than ever before and as sincerely as she could said, "You'll never be alone, I'll always be here for you." She meant every word and Harry could tell. With one last smile they went their separate ways, him with his two friends while Lyla sat back across from Rylie.

Lyla had on the biggest smile she was sure she had ever worn and looked down to see Harry with a similar grin as well which made her laugh. Rylie looked up at hearing Lyla's laughter and noted that her friend would not—could not was yet to be determined—stop smiling. She followed her gaze down the table till it rested on Harry Potter, a fellow third year who had seemed to have taken a quick interest in Lyla. Rylie kept quiet but reminded herself to ask Lyla for more details.

Lyla's spirits soared even more as she looked at her time table. She, unlike most of her peers could not wait for classes to start. She supposed besides her, Hermione was the only other person looking forward to their new lessons.

Lyla and Rylie rose from their seats to head off to their next class and for the second time that morning Lyla noticed Malfoy glaring at Harry like he wanted nothing better than to rip him apart. Lyla was about to say something to him but settled for simply glaring at the back of his head as she passed her Care of Magical Creatures Professor, quickly making her way towards Harry.

"Hey guys," Lyla said approaching Harry and his friends. She smiled lightly as the twins jumped to their feet to bow low at her presence. Lyla sat down next to Harry and said, "Draco Malfoy," Harry's attention was now fully on her as she went on. "What's his problem?"

Harry glanced over to the Slytherin table glaring at Malfoy as his eyes fell on him. Turning his attention back to Lyla he asked, "What'd he do? I'll kill the bloody git if he dared to try anything."

Lyla was giggling at the look of deep-seated hatred on Harry's face; he really couldn't pull off the look very well. When she heard what he said, however, she laughed so hard she thought she might piss herself. Harry was bewildered as to why she was laughing as was Malfoy but he had a more joyful expression on most likely thinking—basing his hypothesis on Harry's facial expression—that Lyla was laughing at Harry.

Lyla took a deep breath, forcing down the lasts of her sniggers, "You actually think I'd let Malfoy try anything? Please...like that twit could do anything without his bodyguards to help him." Harry, looking relieved with Lyla's response, laughed before telling her that she might as well get use to Malfoy's type of torture on them. Lyla didn't like that but agreed while silently thinking up ways to make Malfoy's life dreadful.

Ron spoke up, stating that they would need at least 10 minutes to get to their next class: Divination. Lyla checked her schedule once again; how she possibly could have missed her least favorite class was beyond her. But there it was at the very top of the parchment, next to 9:00. She groaned and got back to her feet, her good mood running away with the knowledge of her first class.

Harry wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulders and she poked his side playfully. She noticed Rylie was no longer by her side and shrugged figuring she ran off ahead. That made sense though since she wasn't much for big crowds and four people counted as such.

Before exiting the Great Hall Lyla noticed Malfoy once again tried to get to Harry with his impersonations and decided to shut him up. She turned around, catching the attention of the entire Great Hall as she shouted, "I'd shut it if I were you Malfoy. You running away from the dementors, scared to the point of nearly wetting yourself says absolutely nothing for you and in fact makes you look even more pathetic."

Lyla was rewarded with the sound of the Great Hall being filled with the laughter of students, some Slytherins included, and a fierce glare from Malfoy. Lyla simply responded with a sly grin of her own then turned and left the Great Hall, Harry and the others following—glancing at each other in silent shock.

Lyla's grin did not fade as they walked in silence. 'Lyla: 1, Malfoy: zilch. Whether or not he had a problem with me before was undetermined but guaranteed after that fun display.'

41


	8. Chapter 8

- Chapter 8 -

[Death Omens and Near Death Experiences

The walk through the castle to the North Tower was basically silent the whole way except for Ron loudly panting about the desperate need of a shortcut. Lyla, though not nearly as winded as her fellow red head, agreed with him wholeheartedly. How did they expect them all to reach their next class on time when they had to walk all that?

Determined to find a shorter way to the Divination class, Lyla made notes in her mind as they passed corridors she hadn't been through before for future reference to remind her to explore them further. Lyla gazed around as they stopped on a landing after just climbing her seventh staircase. She zoned out once again, glancing in all directions, purposely tuning out the sounds of Harry's friends arguing as to which way to go.

She would have been of no use to the discussion anyway having never been there before. She looked down the corridor to her left and had the feeling they had to go that way. She turned to tell Harry this but was interrupted by a rather short knight having a fit or something at them.

Lyla thought his words were comical enough and she was having a hard enough time stifling her laughter. However when he tried brandishing a sword at them only to end up face down from being to over balanced, Lyla began to bite her lip in effort to keep silent. She didn't want to make him angrier; he might further worsen any injuries he may have already caused, especially to his pride.

Harry mentioned trying to find the North Tower and the little knight, enthusiastically, got to his feet shouting about a quest. He ran out of his portrait in the direction that Lyla had wanted to go in the first place. Lyla and the others followed at a reluctant speed, running was not something they wanted to do after climbing all those staircases.

"Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!" the knight yelled and Lyla understood his words as the sight of a spiraling staircase came into view. She groaned but hurriedly led the way up the narrow staircase.

After learning the knight's name to be Sir Cadogan and Ron calling him mental, Lyla looked around at her new surroundings and looked up wondering how they were supposed to get to the classroom.

Harry voiced this question and the trapdoor entrance opened dropping a silvery ladder in its place. Lyla followed after Harry noticing right away that the class would be more of a headache then she would be able to stand.

The lights were dim thanks to the curtains being drawn shut but besides that the lighting wasn't that great anyways for most of the lamps that would have lit the room were covered in scarves giving it a tacky sort of look. The classroom was way too warm for Lyla's liking and to top everything off the fragrance emitting from the fire was nauseating. If Lyla didn't like the class before she was positive that she absolutely detested it then thanks to the uncomfortable atmosphere.

Lyla vaguely heard Ron ask where their teacher, Sibyll Trelawney, was as she gazed at the very person in question. The very sight of her lightened Lyla's mood immensely. She was very thin, wore big glasses making her eyes seem magnified to no end, and lots of chains and beads around her neck. Lyla didn't think it was possible for anything to be tackier than their new classroom but she was quite obviously proven wrong.

Lyla bit her tongue to stop herself from laughing as she took a seat next to Rylie—who informed her that she had to run back up to their room having left her books there—at a table next to Harry and his friends.

"Welcome to Divination," came the soft voice of their teacher. Lyla turned her attention towards the woman sitting by the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."

Lyla stared blankly at Trelawney then rolled her eyes at her, "Yeah like you could possibly see any better up here." Harry glanced at Lyla shaking his head a little at her statement. She grinned back at him mischievously. She decided that if she absolutely _had_ to take the class then she would make it worthwhile.

Trelawney continued on about the Sight and how books would not help much with the subject, Lyla every once in a while making comments that made Ron, Harry and Rylie laugh to themselves. Hermione didn't seem to like it much what Lyla was doing but then again she quite obviously didn't like the class either.

After a few more useless minutes of Trelawney worrying Neville, warning Parvati, and explaining what she hoped to accomplish that year she explained what they were doing that class: reading tea leaves, what fun!

Despite Lyla's and Rylie's obvious distaste for the class they carried on with their assignment anyway. The only recognizable shape in Rylie's cup was a heart so Lyla said that she was going to fall in love soon. Rylie blushed at this but covered it up by bringing Lyla's cup close to her face.

"Well this looks like a snake," she said after a few seconds. "And this here looks like the symbol for tribulations." She trailed off trying to put the two together. "I can't really make anymore of it out so it probably just means you'll have problems with a Slytherin this year."

"Highly probable since Slytherins hate all us Gryffindors. Most likely it'll be with that Malfoy person though. He's the only Slytherin I've met so far, and plus he already has a problem with m—"

Lyla's sentence was cut short by their Professor's frightened shriek. Lyla listened only long enough to hear an explanation then rolled her eyes again. "Why would Dumbledore hire that crazy old bint?" Lyla asked as she followed Rylie to her Transfiguration lesson with Professor McGonagall. Lyla was a tad angry at Trelawney for worrying Harry like she did. He had enough to deal with without her false death omens.

Harry looked shaken, but more so angry with the glances his classmates kept shooting at him. It made Lyla quite upset also and a few times she hissed for them to find something else to stare at. Her attention however was drawn away from them and to the strict witch near the front of the class telling them about Animagi—a witch or wizard with the ability to transform at will into an animal—which interested Lyla to know end.

Lyla had a love for all animals—with the exception of bunnies—she always had so learning that there was a way to actually turn into one swiftly caught her attention. She indistinctly remembered reading something in one of her books that made reference to an Animagus. She reminded herself to check her books later that day, even if she knew Remus would flip if he found out what she was planning. It wasn't like it was for her benefit only. In fact she was mostly thinking about Remus while planning everything.

"Really, what has got into you all today?" asked Professor McGonagall, noticing that her class had their attention directed elsewhere. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class." She went on sounding a bit put off by their reactions or lack there of.

Hermione tentatively raised her hand while the rest of the class gazed unblinkingly at Harry. She began to explain to Professor McGonagall what had happened but was soon cut off. McGonagall frowned catching on quickly as to what had happened. "There is no need to say anymore, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

Everyone's attention snapped quickly back to McGonagall as Harry spoke up revealing that it would be him whose life would tragically end that year—sarcasm to be noted there.

"I see," said McGonagall turning to stare at Harry while she spoke. "Then you should know, Potter, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues—"

Lyla leaned across her desk and got Rylie's attention, "If it were not for the fact that she never speaks ill of her colleagues she'd probably tell us that we were wrong about Trelawney." Rylie looked confused and was about to ask why when Lyla went on. "She'd tell us Trelawney was even more cracked than any of us could ever imagine."

The two girls snickered to themselves as McGonagall went on obviously having heard Lyla's comment but choosing to ignore it—although it did put a slight smile on her otherwise vacant face. Professor McGonagall had to stop speaking once again after stating her dislike of Divination in a more polite way then Lyla ever could have or would ever want to.

Whatever Professor McGonagall had said next Lyla did not hear, something outside on the grounds had caught her attention. She vaguely heard some of her classmates laughing but she drowned them out as her thoughts clouded her mind. "It couldn't be..." she whispered to herself. But she had a feeling that she was not mistaken. After all she knew she could never be able to forget that night in Knockturn Alley.

There crouched down low next to a tree just inside the Forbidden Forest was a large sickly looking bear-like dog. She would not have seen it if it hadn't of moved, it blended so well with darkness of the forest. At first Lyla had thought it to be the Grim but knew she was only being foolish. And then it came to her, that man. The one who had attacked her then turned into that very creature right before her. He was an Animagus.

Startled out of her thoughts by the end of class, Lyla quickly gathered her things and stood to her feet chancing a glance back towards the forest. But it was gone as if it had just vanished into thin air. No evidence what so ever that it had ever been there in the first place was left.

Lunch was uneventful; Lyla was far too caught up in her thoughts to pay attention to the twins and their friend Lee Jordan scheming over something and Oliver trying to catch her eye. Rylie seemed concerned but said nothing. Lyla hadn't told her about what had happened over the summer, nor what she just thought she saw near the forest. For that's all that happened, she told herself. She could have just as easily imagined it being there what with the Grim on her mind thanks to her loony Divination teacher.

Lyla came out of her thoughts just in time to hear Hermione, who sat a few seats down from her with Ron and Harry, say, "That lesson was absolute rubbish compared with my Arithmancy class!" Hermione then stood up, grabbed her bag and marched away determinedly not looking back at her friends.

Lyla was about to go back to her lunch and musings before something struck her. Hermione hadn't been to an Arithmancy class that day. How could she be able to compare the two classes? Not that Lyla was arguing with Hermione, in fact she quite agreed with her. Divination was rubbish.

That was besides that point however, and Lyla sat for the rest of her lunch break wondering what Hermione was up to for she was sure without a doubt that there was something. Just what it was exactly, Lyla had yet to uncover mostly because her suspicions had just recently arisen.

Lunch ended and Lyla made her way with Harry, Ron, and Hermione down to their Care of Magical Creatures class. Rylie had wandered off by herself again, Ron and Hermione weren't speaking to each other and Harry was oddly quiet. Lyla had a feeling it had something to do with the Grim and said, "Still thinking about it, eh?"

Harry looked up at his sister confused and asked, "What?"

"The Grim," she stated simply. Harry looked away embarrassed, a faint tinge of red staining his cheeks. He didn't want his sister to think he was being stupid taking it seriously. "Don't worry about it Harry. If any huge black dogs come after you while I'm around I'll protect you," she said cheekily making him smile at her consideration knowing that she not only said it to make him feel better but also that she actually meant it.

Hermione scoffed from his other side, "And who's going to be there to protect you?" Harry saw Lyla's eyes darken a bit as she set her gaze on Hermione.

"I don't need anyone to protect me, but you're going to need someone very soon if you don't stop butting in to other people's conversations!"

Hermione's mouth dropped, once again not expecting Lyla to say something back at her. She stomped ahead, passing Malfoy and his gang, "Well I never!"

Lyla sniggered slightly before shouting after her in response, "Well maybe it's time you did!" Lyla briefly saw Malfoy smirking at her, looking back and forth from her to Hermione like he was greatly amused, as she walked past him and his cronies, leaving behind Harry and Ron who seemed torn between who they should follow.

Eventually they decided to follow Lyla and did so as she followed everyone else, Hagrid leading the group around the trees. Lyla scanned the edge of the forest warily hoping to see what ever it was she saw earlier materialize into view just to prove to herself more than anything else that she was not hallucinating. Sighing in disappointment when she didn't see anything, Lyla turned her attention back to Hagrid who was directing the class to stand around the empty enclosure.

Hagrid directed everyone to open their books and Malfoy spoke up, "How exactly do we do that?" Hagrid looked a little confused and Malfoy repeated himself, obvious disgust written upon his otherwise handsome face.

Hagrid was a little upset that no one had been able to open their books but said nothing else other than stating, "Yeh've got ter stroke 'em." He demonstrated to the class the simply easy procedure and then Hermione's book lay quite still in his hand.

"Oh, how silly we've all been! We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess?" Malfoy drawled out sarcastically earning him sniggers from other Slytherins present.

Hagrid seemed nervous at Malfoy's words and stuttered out bashfully, "I—I thought they were funny."

"Oh yeah, terribly funny. Really witty of you, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!" sneered Malfoy unconcerned of his tone directed at _Professor _Hagrid, although it was highly unlikely that he thought of Hagrid as an actual teacher.

Hagrid seemed to have lost what little confidence he had had at the beginning of their lesson and stuttered once again before departing to collect the creatures. Just as Hagrid's large form disappeared from sight Malfoy spoke up once again, crinkling his nose in disgust while looking around. "God this place has gone to the dogs. Just wait until Father hears Dumbledore has got this oaf teaching classes. He'll have a fit when I tell him—"

Harry stepped towards Malfoy, "Shut up, Malfoy," he hissed angrily.

"Oooh," said the other Slytherins taunting Harry which struck a nerve in Lyla. She stepped up next to Harry and glared at them, wordlessly daring them to try it again.

Malfoy ignored Lyla and strutted arrogantly towards Harry till he was a mere foot in front of him. He smirked at Harry before looking up past him. The smirk had fallen from his face and Malfoy actually looked frightened of something and the reason became apparent soon after. He stumbled away backwards, pointed behind them, "Dementor! Dementor!"

Mostly everyone around the twins had turned around in fear. Lyla however turned quickly her wand raised in defense when she realized something. It was a very warm day out for September, there was not even the hint of temperature decrease in the air and even more no pleading screams resounding in her ears. Yes, there was absolutely nothing wrong with that day and no Dementor in sight.

The Slytherins laughter, brought Lyla back to reality and she faced them once again. Anger etched into her features. Malfoy and his friends had the hood of the robes pulled over their heads, tauntingly jeering at the rest of the Gryffindors, literally mocking them with their spirit fingers.

Lyla made to move towards Malfoy, hoping to get at least one good punch in. But unfortunately for her Rylie showed up and with the help of Harry managed to hold her struggling form back. Lyla sighed in defeat and settled for just glaring at the once again smirking Malfoy.

"There's no need to hold her back Potter. We all know she wants me not you." The class was silent, incredulously looking on at the new information. Lyla stared back at Malfoy not believing what she heard.

Lyla's body shook with suppressed laughter before she let it out shattering the silence around her. She was laughing so hard that she couldn't even respond, not that there was any need to. Her response came out loud and clear in a most jovial way for Lyla and others. She leaned on Harry to keep from falling to the ground as he did the same laughing just as hard as she was.

Malfoy glared at the two Gryffindors before him wishing that he could forcefully make them stop laughing any way he could. Of course the look of pure fury on his face only served cause for the two to laugh even harder.

A Gryffindor girl, introduced to Lyla as Lavender Brown, squealed pointing towards the paddock. Lyla and Harry pulled themselves together, turned around and gazed at the creatures for their lesson.

They were absolutely the most amazing creatures Lyla had ever set eyes on, with most of the back part of a horse and the front of an eagle. They had a dangerous look about them but from what Lyla had heard of Hagrid he wasn't one to shy away from dangerous creatures. That was in fact one of the reasons Lyla liked Hagrid. He was quite possibly the only other person at Hogwarts with her fascination of creatures, magical and non, not including Remus of course.

Nearly everyone around Lyla was looking on either scared—which was to be expected since they did seem to look vicious—or disgust like Malfoy was. Lyla ignored him and went on listening intently to her now practically beaming Professor, eager for the knowledge about to be bequeathed upon her.

"Aren't they beau'iful?" he asked smiling at Lyla as she nodded enthusiastically, glancing back at them every once in a while.

"Hagrid, exactly what are those?" asked Ron making sure he kept far away from them. He settled for cowering behind Rylie as opposed to vacating the area as fast as his gangly legs could take him.

"Those, Ron, are hippogriffs. Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud. Easily offended, they are. Don't never insult one, it might just be that last thing yeh ever do."

Lyla smirked to herself and thought that somebody should inform Malfoy of that, but upon thinking it through thoroughly, the last thing he ever does sounded nice after what he had pulled. "Now, who'd like ter come an' say 'ello?" he asked after explaining what they had to do.

Simultaneously as if they were all magnetically pulled together the class took a step back, leaving both Lyla and Harry in front. Lyla smiled at Harry before jumping up and down screaming, "Pick me. Oh, pick me!"

Harry, though reluctant to let his sister be put in possible danger, stepped back with Ron and Hermione, Lyla's friend Rylie had walked off away from them again but Harry took no notice. He was focused more on what was going on in front of him feeling the sudden urge to protect Lyla for he obviously thought she would get hurt.

Hagrid beamed brightly once again at her exuberance before walking over to the hippogriffs and untying the gray one he called Buckbeak. Lyla made sure to listen to Hagrid's instructions while going through them.

Buckbeak stared at her in a threatening way but Lyla only smiled softly at him before bowing, making sure not to break eye contact. Buckbeak cocked his head to the side before bowing back to her. Lyla smiled wider this time as she ignored Hagrid and walked up to Buckbeak.

She started petting him, marveling at how soft his feathers and coat was. Buckbeak leaned towards Lyla's caresses seeming to make a crooning noise of contentment. Lyla continued petting the hippogriff as she turned around with a big grin across your face and asked, "Can I ride him?"

Hagrid looked momentarily shocked but nodded none the less. Lyla took a step back, instantly Buckbeak dropped to his knees, allowing Lyla to easily climb on his back. She was about to take off when she suddenly stopped and turned to face the class, smiling mischievously at Harry who returned her look with a nervous one of his own.

"Harry, come ride with me," she said holding her hand out waiting for him to walk over and take it. Harry however wasn't as eager as Lyla was to get in the air on Buckbeak. He shook his head vigorously. Lyla smirked, leaning forward so that her chin rested on top of the hippogriff's feathery head and lazily drawled out, "Don't be such a wimp, Potter."

Lyla's smirk stretched into a broad grin when she heard Malfoy mutter indignantly, "I do _not_ sound like that." Lyla finally persuaded Harry and waited patiently as Hagrid walked him through the same steps she had just demonstrated.

Buckbeak seemed to take to Harry as quickly as he did Lyla because before anyone knew it, Harry was patting Buckbeak on the head. Hagrid picked him up—him struggling to free himself of Hagrid's grip, he was obviously having second thoughts about the whole ordeal—and placed him behind Lyla. Before either of them could object, like Lyla would anyway, Hagrid patted Buckbeak on the rear setting the hippogriff off into a run before he took to the air.

Harry held tightly to his sister making it hard for her to breathe but she barely noticed. Being in the air made her so carefree, she didn't notice the lack of oxygen. Briefly she wondered if that was what it was like to fly on a broomstick. She figured it wasn't since her brother didn't seem to enjoy it like she heard he did flying on his own.

Lyla ignored it and spread her arms and screamed, "Woohoo!" Harry's grip only tightened at this and Lyla tried to comfort him, "Harry, there's no need to be scared. I won't let you fall, it's perfectly safe!"

The three of them flew over the castle giving Lyla a great view of the landscape. Lyla could only find one word to describe it all: breathtaking. The dark forest and shimmering lake surrounding the castle, the green snow-capped mountains in the distance; she could even see Hogsmeade village from where she was.

Buckbeak swooped down low to the lake so they were literally gliding on it. Harry seemed to at last start to enjoy himself as he loosened his grasp and yelled out a 'woohoo!' of his own. "Isn't this great?" Lyla yelled back at Harry as Buckbeak soared back up towards the sky.

Harry wasn't expecting the sudden movement and clutched back on to Lyla so he would not fall into the lake and have a swim with the giant squid. He whispered, "Yeah," into his sister's ear agreeing that it was fun but still he preferred his broomstick. Buckbeak landed smoothly on the ground and kneeled down as the two siblings jumped off only to be greeted by a cheering class.

Rylie, accompanied by Ron and Hermione ran up to Harry and Lyla smiling. "That was wicked!" said Rylie and Ron, afterwards looking away from each other, both careful not to meet the other's eyes.

The rest of the class had wanted a go at it so Harry and Lyla stood back away from everyone, watching everything unfold. They talked about the experience and Harry told Lyla that riding on a hippogriff was nothing compared to flying a broomstick. Lyla figured he was mostly basing this opinion on the fact that he had not enjoyed it that much. No matter the reason he promised to teach Lyla how to fly sometime, to which she quickly agreed.

Lyla could hear Malfoy trying to get a rise out of Harry again but told him to ignore it. "You're not dangerous at all, are you?" drawled Malfoy now talking to Buckbeak. "Are you, you great ugly brute?!"

Lyla's jaw dropped at his last statement and hoped he was smart enough to get away from Buckbeak. Sadly, as she knew would happen, he wasn't. Lyla turned to watch the scene, Hagrid was struggling to get Buckbeak back in his collar and Malfoy was on the ground, blood sinking into his robes.

Lyla knew it was not the most appropriate of times to laugh but when she deciphered exactly what Malfoy was groaning, she couldn't help herself. "I'm dying, look at me! Oh it's killed me! It's killed me!" Hermione scolded Lyla for laughing before running off to help Hagrid.

Lyla watched Hagrid walk by with Malfoy and just couldn't contain herself. "Not so tough now, are ya Malfoy?" she shouted making her friends laugh slightly and the Slytherins all glare but not dare try anything.

Rylie and Lyla parted with Harry and the others after dinner, attempting to finish their homework from McGonagall. Harry, Ron and Hermione left them to talk in the deserted common room. They were off to see what had happened and if Hagrid was alright. Before leaving, Harry promised to tell her all they found out.

The portrait swung shut with a low thud and Lyla turned to her silent friend. "Now, I've got a few theories but I want you to clear something up for me," Lyla said quietly to Rylie.

Rylie looked up questioningly and nodded her head. "How come you're never around when I'm with Harry and them?" Rylie's eyes widened slightly not expecting the question but just looked down blushing.

"I'm right then, aren't I? You fancy Ron." Rylie nodded her face turning a lovely shade of scarlet. "Forgive me for being honest but, you did make it painfully obvious," Lyla said jokingly laughing along with her friend.

They returned to their homework soon after this. A minute of silence went by, only broken by the occasional rustle of parchment, before Rylie timidly broke it, her own curiosity getting the better of her. "What's going on between you and Harry? You two seem pretty close all of a sudden."

Lyla thought she could hear something move over by the boys' staircase but figured it was only her imagination. She had already asked Remus and Dumbledore if she were allowed to divulge that information to her friends and they agreed that she could, but only if she thought them entirely trustworthy.

She already knew the twins were, they were Weasleys and Harry trusted them, why shouldn't she? With Rylie, it was much different other than Harry barely knowing her, but Lyla did and trusted her not to tell anyone. She cautioned Rylie that it was imperative she not tell anyone and she agreed thinking it something entirely different.

"I just recently found this out over the summer," Lyla started gazing at Rylie before continuing. "Harry's my twin brother, Rye. My last name's not Evans, its Potter. I even have my mother's name for my middle name."

Rylie sat there mouth dropped wide open. She of course like many other pure blood witches and wizards knew the story of the Potters' tragic end. How the parents had died to save their children, and most of all how supposedly only one of the children escaped with their lives.

She was about to respond to the information when Lyla spoke again and told her the important parts of what Lupin had told her. Basically just that he had saved her, she didn't dare go on about how before knowing all that, she had seen the death of her parents every night she went to sleep.

She didn't want Rylie to know that, she didn't want anyone to know that but knew Rylie would become curious about why her friend constantly suffered from nightmares. Before anything else could be said though, numerous loud thuds came from the boys' staircase and Lyla turned in time to see three figures fall down into the common room, sprawled out across each other.

Fred, George and Oliver scrambled to their feet and asked, "So you don't fancy Harry?"

Lyla laughed at their question and wondered why people thought that. It's not like they were acting like they had an attraction to each other, for they most certainly did not! Lyla shook her head and thought she might have imagined it but Oliver looked a little relieved. She smiled before asking, "How long were you listening?"

They smiled guiltily and George said, "When Rylie here asked the question we've all been _dying_ to know." Lyla laughed and thought it funny that most of the day revolved around death. From the death omens of Divination to Malfoy's near—and not to mention well deserved—death experience.

50


	9. Chapter 9

- Chapter 9 -

[Boggart: What Are You Afraid Of?

Rylie, the twins and Oliver kept true to their words over the next week. They didn't breathe a word of Lyla's parentage to anyone. The twins kept hinting at it whenever Harry was around but no one ever caught on to what they were talking about except Harry and the others that already knew.

Rylie had stopped ditching Lyla when she was around her brother and his friends. She seemed a little more at ease around Ron now that someone else finally knew her secret.

Lyla and Oliver were hanging out more often and she was really enjoying that. He may be older than her and she knew she didn't have a chance with him but still being around him was nice enough for her. She couldn't complain in the least, although Harry didn't seem to like it too much.

She hadn't seen a trace of the man or dog from Knockturn Alley and decided that she had been imagining it. Also Malfoy had been out of sight that whole week and Lyla was relishing in the lack of whining. She knew he was faking it though; there was just no way he could have been hurt that badly. Buckbeak barely touched the little wimp.

He made an appearance however during Potions class that next Thursday; bandages covering his right arm that was in a sling. It was obvious to everyone that he was faking it, everyone that is except Snape of course. And this kind of irked Lyla a bit, the only reason he was so lenient with Malfoy was because he was in Slytherin and Snape was the Head of that House.

Lyla was sitting at the table behind Harry and Ron when Malfoy took his seat at that table directly in front of her. She looked at Rylie with a questioning glance at Malfoy but she only shrugged before going back to her potion. They were making a Shrinking Solution today.

Potions was her favorite class despite the unpleasant fact of being in Snape's presence for two hours. She excelled in it despite Snape's obvious dislike of her. He detested not being able to criticize her work because she did every potion perfectly. Lyla lifted her head from measuring her cut up daisy roots to make sure they were all the same size, when she heard Snape order Ron to cut up Malfoy's roots.

'He's a right little bastard, in't he?' Lyla thought to herself figuring that was the reason Malfoy sat with her brother and Ron. Lyla tried to ignore Malfoy and the rest as they argued about Malfoy faking his injury but found it hard when he mentioned Hagrid.

Lyla glared furiously at the back of his head before grabbing a couple caterpillars and hissing, "Malfoy," out as quietly as she could so that Snape wouldn't hear her. He turned towards her mouth open to ask her what she wanted when she threw the caterpillars at him, one hitting him between the eyes the other landing in his open mouth.

Malfoy spat the caterpillar out of his mouth, crinkling his face in disgust as he glared at Lyla. Ron and Harry were snickering quietly to themselves, as was Rylie. "What was that for?" he snarled in a low voice at Lyla.

"Don't talk about Hagrid and maybe unfortunate things won't happen to you, bloody git," Lyla didn't know why Malfoy disliked Hagrid so much. In her opinion their newest Professor was as affable as Professor Flitwick; one couldn't help but like him.

She ignored Malfoy—her attempts to figure him out drifting away as well—and went back to her potion which had turned a lovely vibrant shade of acid green. She wasn't paying attention to anything going on around her and almost missed Snape picking on Neville. Rylie elbowed Lyla in her side as she tilted her head towards them.

She felt terribly sorry for Neville. Snape was being extremely unfair. Neville was just a little forgetful...ok really forgetful but he didn't have to be so cruel to him. It was hardly his fault that he was ill-adept at Potions. If anything it was Snape's fault for belittling instead of helping him.

It was a wonder anyone other than the Slytherins learned anything in fact. He should try teaching more and yelling less. She decided that a little prank to get her thoughts through to her stubborn Potions Professor would do nicely and began plotting her prank in her mind.

Lyla had finished her potion somewhere during her ranting/plotting and walked to the stone basin in the corner to wash up with Harry and Ron. She didn't mean to eavesdrop or anything but Ron and Harry weren't doing to well to keep their voices down. They were talking about something Malfoy had said and when she asked what they were talking about they elaborated for her not seeming to mind that she had overheard them.

Turned out, Malfoy was being quite cryptic with his hints about Sirius Black, only stating that he would have wanted revenge if he was Harry. Ron suggested that Malfoy was just trying to get Harry to do something stupid and Lyla agreed. "Either that or he knows something we don't. 'Course he made that blatantly obvious so it could be both," she said trailing off in thought.

"That was helpful, Lye. Really I feel much better now. Much more informed, less stuck in the closet without a flashlight." Harry said with a roll of his eyes.

Lyla smiled picking up on his sarcasm, she briefly thought about telling him to be careful because he was starting to talk like her but settled for a brightly saying, "Glad I could help!" Noting in her mind that she would have to find out what Malfoy meant or it would irritate her to no end till she knew.

She walked back to her table and finished packing up her unused ingredients and other such items. Lyla wasn't paying attention to what was happening with Neville and Snape, having already seen Hermione helping Neville she figured everything would go alright.

When the end of the lesson came round however, Snape took points away from Gryffindor after the disappointment caused by Neville's toad not being poisoned. Lyla grumbled about how unfair he was being as she walked with Rylie to lunch, only briefly noting the strange exchange between Hermione and Ron.

Lyla spared a few seconds to listen and found what she heard a bit odd. Lyla had been walking behind Hermione, although she wasn't paying attention to anything other than her anger towards Snape, but still she had been quite positive that Hermione did not pass by her. Lyla was about to point that out when Hermione's bag ripped causing all her books to tumble to the floor.

She momentarily stopped to gawk at how many books she actually had but upon closer inspection, by her and Ron, noted that Hermione didn't even have any of the subjects she was carrying books for that day. Ron mentioned this to her and she looked around nervously before exclaiming that she was famished and marched off towards the Great Hall.

"D'you get the feeling Hermione's not telling us something?" asked Ron staring after his bushy haired friend. Little by little more evidence for Lyla to be suspicious of Hermione was popping up, even her friends were on to whatever she was up to. Lyla stored her suspicions away for future reference. She was far too hungry and upset with what had just happened in Potions to think about anything other than that.

Lyla and Rylie sat across from the twins and Lee during lunch. They were talking about some pranks they were going to pull and fine tuning them for the best results when Lyla broke into their conversations. "What would you guys say if I told you I wanted to get back at dear old Snape for everything he puts us Gryffindors through?" She said leaning in closer to their side of the table.

They looked over at her, Fred and George wearing identical mischievous grins on their faces. "We would say: What do you have in mind oh-brilliant-one?" asked Fred as him and his twin followed Lyla's lead and leaned over to hear her whispered plan. Lyla pulled out a vial filled with an unidentified liquid and said, "I have to make a few adjustments to this and work on the spell first but I need help with getting him to drink it, that's where you two come in. I need to know where the kitchen is."

They smiled and George said, "Ah, no problem m'lady."

"We'll show you where it is after your next class," concluded Fred.

Lyla smiled, "You guys are the best! I'll meet you in the entrance hall after my Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

They agreed and went back to their plans with Lee, who was looking a little put out by not being included in Lyla's prank but didn't say anything about it. Harry sat down next to Lyla on her right, helping himself to a sandwich. Lyla smiled at him before that was quickly wiped from her face when she noticed Malfoy over at the Slytherin table.

He was sitting with his fellow Slytherins going on about how traumatizing his encounter with Buckbeak had been. "Listen to the idiot," Ron said glaring over at Malfoy. "He's really laying it on thick, isn't he?"

Lyla smiled to herself deciding it was time to have a little fun and nudged Harry. He looked over at her with a questioning look on his face. "Watch this," she whispered. He nodded still not comprehending what she wanted but listened none the less.

Lyla grabbed on to Harry's arm and leaned over him so that he was supporting most of her, acting like she were about to faint. To complete this overly dramatic pose she lifted her right hand and pressed the back of it against her forehead.

She gasped loudly making sure she had everyone's, more importantly Draco's, attention before going on in a whining voice, "Oh It's killed me! Look I'm dying! It's killed me! And I'm milking this experience to the max because I'm a pathetic Slytherin with no life. Oh woe is me!"

Lyla lifted her head slightly off of Harry and shot a sly, mocking smile Draco's way. He didn't return the smile. In fact Lyla was actually surprised he hadn't said anything back to her yet. But that was probably due to the fact that he was too busy turning red from holding his anger in.

Lyla shook her head and laughed with her friends and the other students who had heard her. Even Hermione managed a slight smile which didn't escape Draco's notice and only served to infuriate him more. "You think that's funny mudblood?!" he asked spitting out that offensive term at her.

The Great Hall grew quiet as Hermione grabbed Harry and Ron to stop them from acting on their anger. She however, could not reach Lyla and for that Lyla was thankful for she had a few choice words at that moment to share with Malfoy. "Obviously she does, Malfoy," Lyla responded fiercely, gaining Malfoy's attention back from glaring hatefully at Hermione.

She continued on, ignoring the looks she was receiving from most of the Slytherins—Malfoy included—and the threatening crack of knuckles coming from his gorilla henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle. "Why don't you try saying something to me? After all I was the one who was mocking you. And I meant every word I said, you are rather pathetic."

Draco sneered at Lyla but said nothing and turned around to talk to his friends again. Harry and Ron looked at Lyla as if they had never seen anything quite as remarkable in their lives. "How'd you do that? Malfoy never lets someone talk to him like that and he certainly doesn't just sit their and take it either," said Ron still staring at Lyla.

She shrugged and said, "What can I say? It's a gift. But seriously, I don't like nor approve of the use of that word. No one deserves to be called it, even if I don't get along with that person." Lyla glanced at Hermione quickly—who was looking oddly confused, probably wondering why she stood up for her—before getting to her feet.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to run and talk to Remy real quick before class starts," she said smirking quickly at the twins before leaving. She felt more at ease than she had at the start of lunch. Oddly enough, fighting with Malfoy seemed to have calmed her down better than she could have.

It was because of her newfound calmness that Lyla figured out the solution to her dilemmas which had somehow made its way to the grand total of four: Remus. He was the answer or at least had answers that Lyla could persuade, swindle, out of him. Of course she wouldn't come right out and tell him what she was up to, that would give away the surprise and he could attempt to stop her.

She ran up the stairs to the first floor where Remus' classroom was but found it empty. Sighing in agitation she whirled around and ran up another flight of stairs to the second floor. She slowed her run down to a casual saunter as she processed the best way of achieving what she wanted without giving away too much detail.

She walked down the corridor to her guardian's office, no longer feeling the need to run, and knocked on the door. When she got no answer she quietly opened it and stepped in. There he was bent low over his desk, quill held limply in his hand. From a quick glance it looked like he was writing with his head laid on the desk, but Lyla knew from many different occasions that the limp form before her was Lupin asleep more than likely from a hard day.

She felt a little guilty about waking him up but figured he would want to be more alert in time for his next class. Positioning herself beside Remus, Lyla slowly leaned down close to his ear. "Remy! Wake up!" she shouted in his ear making him jerk up, wide awake, his head colliding with hers.

Lyla toppled to the floor, regretting her actions as she grabbed her head in pain. Lupin did the same as they both silently cursed. Well he was silently cursing; Lyla on the other hand was being more open about it.

"Who's the sleep Nazi now?" Remus grumbled as he helped Lyla to stand, having recovered faster than her. Lyla smiled, still rubbing her slightly throbbing head as she sat down across from him. They stayed in silence for a few minutes and Lyla took that time to look him over, still contemplating what she was about to do. He looked tired but indeed a lot better than he had before.

"So, what can I do for you?" asked Remus breaking the silence.

Lyla shook her head regaining her thoughts and said, "Oh yeah, I knew there was a reason I came here. Besides wanting to see my favorite Professor of course," she stated with a big overly innocent grin on her face—hoping to flatter Remus so she could get what she wanted—it didn't work of course. Remus knew better and was already suspicious of her motives.

"Now I know you're up to something," Remus muttered smiling as her face dropped slightly.

She quickly regained her composure however and asked, "When aren't I up to something?" Remus laughed nodding his head knowing that that was indeed true. He actually couldn't think of a time that Lyla wasn't secretly planning something in that ingenious mind of hers.

"Well then, since I undoubtedly cant get anything past you," she stated with a wide grin that just about screamed that she was lying through her teeth at her last statement. "I need your help," she said and at Remus' inquiring look she elaborated. "You know how I wanted to take more subjects than I had time for?" She asked thinking it best not to tell him the whole truth of what she wanted. Going this route would be useful to her in the long run of her schemes.

Remus nodded wondering where she was going with this. "Well I found a way that I could learn the subjects without having to go to the classes I-so-obviously don't have time for." Remus raised an eyebrow at her declaration, wondering how she possibly thought she could learn something without going to class. The answer was way too obvious that he didn't think of it.

Lyla shifted some pieces of parchment around on his desk until she found a blank one. She picked up his quill and held it out to him. When he took it she said, "I need a signed note from you giving me permission to get some books from the library."

Remus raised an eyebrow at her and said, "The only books that would require signed consent from a teacher are in the restricted section. What could you possibly need any of those for? No classes you take require them."

"Exactly," said Lyla quickly thinking of a way to avoid the question. "No classes I take _now_, but the courses I wanted to partake in, and will want to in the future, but won't have adequate time for, do."

Remus shook his head; he had planned on just telling her that he would not do it. He knew what she could possibly come across in those books; they were after all restricted for a reason. He decided however—since his curiosity was getting the better of him—to try and squeeze some more useful information out of her.

"How exactly will you learn what is required if you don't know what is being taught?" he asked wondering the answer himself.

"Quite easily in fact," Lyla stated with a grin. She knew already that Remus was close to giving in even if he didn't realize it yet. He always got too curious for his own good, and tried to outsmart her into telling him her plans but that only resulted in her getting her way. When it came to her masterful plots she would tell no one unless it was truly necessary and the information Remus was so keen on knowing wasn't.

"There are other Gryffindors who take those courses. They do their homework in the common room. I've looked at their work and understood it. And I could always ask for help if I didn't, when I have some free time."

What she had just told Remus was the truth. There were others in her House that took the classes she was denied. They did occasionally do their work in the common room. She had looked at their work, although at the time while she was looking at them, they hadn't known. What would Hermione say to Lyla looking through her school work? She'd probably accuse her of copying her work—as if she needed to.

Lyla knew she wasn't being overly honest, but like a very wise hero of hers once said, 'Always be truthful; never be honest.' She lived by those words. Whenever she was put in a situation like the one she was in now she remembered those words and they hadn't let her down yet.

Remus was still suspicious, he knew she wasn't telling him the whole truth but didn't want to accuse her of lying to him when there was a small chance she wasn't. He couldn't find any reason not to grant her request and sign the permission. He sighed, silently recognizing that he would regret his decision later before signing a note giving Lyla permission to any book in the library for the rest of the year.

Lyla held back a smirk of triumph from revealing itself and accepted the slip of parchment that would prove itself more useful than she knew. Remus pointed out the time and walked with Lyla back down to the first floor. She thought it as good a time as she'd ever get to bring up what Malfoy had said to Harry earlier that day. She told Remus but all he did was give her an odd look and stayed quiet.

She thought nothing of it at the time since class was starting but knew there was something he was hiding from her and she didn't particularly like that thought. Lyla stayed back when they entered the classroom, Remus had already told her what he had planned for that day so she didn't bother to sit or unpack. She waited patiently as everyone filed out of the room, following Lupin to their lesson. She was the last one out and that was when she noticed Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, walking with the class. /p 

p Thinking it a bit odd when only Gryffindors were in this class, she quickened her pace till she was walking beside him. "Are you lost?" she said after getting their attention. /p 

p Malfoy smirked down at her, 'Damn him for being so tall,' Lyla thought to herself. "I'm here to make up a lesson, since I've been out on injury." /p 

/p Lyla snorted atypically for a lady. "You know as well as I do that I think you're full of shite with the whole injury bit so give it up will you?" Malfoy glared at her and made to argue but she cut him off. "I get why you're here but what about them?" she said pointing to the two supposedly intimidating presences on either side of him. /p 

p "They could use the extra lesson," he replied coolly. /p 

p Lyla smirked and crouched low to avoid the cursing Peeves from knocking into her. "Yeah, I can see why they'd need extra lessons. Being your friends, they can't possibly be that intelligent and that's a very terrible thing. It makes you look bad and we can't have that now, can we?" /p 

p Lyla could feel Malfoy's glare following her as she made her way into the staffroom and smiled even wider at Remus. He knew that she had just ticked someone off; she always had that grin of hers on when she got one over on someone. Never when she was happy with anything would she grin like that only when she was being particularly mischievous would that grin appear. /p 

p Lyla glared at Snape, realizing that he was in the room as he got to his feet, sneering at her on his way out. "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this," he said as Remus was about to close the door. Malfoy was smirking as Snape warned Lupin about Neville while Lyla and Harry continued glaring at Snape. /p 

p Lyla broke her stare and turned her attention back to Remus as he got rid of Snape, causing Malfoy's smirk to falter. She tried her best to ignore him for the rest of class, but that proved more difficult than she had thought it would. /p 

p Remus led the class to the end of the room to an old wardrobe that was shaking every now and then. "Nothing to worry about," he assured everyone after he saw some people jump back away from it. "There's a boggart in there." /p 

p Lyla glanced at her friends and classmates. They didn't look too reassured by Remus' words. Of course Lyla couldn't really blame them. She wasn't looking forward to facing the boggart herself because she wasn't even sure what her biggest fear was and didn't feel inclined to find out either, especially not in front of everyone like that. /p 

p Remus explained to the class a little about boggarts before asking them what they were. Lyla was going to answer--living with Remus, he had already explained most of what they would be learning that year to her--but Hermione had beaten her to it, appearing out of no where when Lyla was positive she hadn't been there before. /p 

p "Mysterious appearance out of thin air," Lyla muttered to herself as she added those words to a growing list of evidence she had collected against Hermione. She still had no clue what she was going to prove but knew that she was on to something. /p 

p "Boggart's are shape-shifters. They take the shape of whatever a particular person fears the most. That's what makes them so--" Hermione said over-answering the question before Remus interrupts her. He obviously didn't want her rambling on. /p 

p "--so terrifying, yes," said Remus as he started further explaining something or other. Lyla didn't know what for she was too busy staring at the wardrobe trying to figure out what she was most afraid of. She hoped the boggart didn't turn into anything she'd have to later explain, like the man/dog she had encountered before. But she doubted that would happen because he couldn't possibly be the thing she feared the most, the thought was laughable in itself. /p 

p Her thoughts sprang to her once constant occurring dreams and sincerely hoped that didn't come up...that would bring up many unwanted questions. While thinking this Lyla realized that her dreams had become less frequent and intense since she found out the truth. She glared towards Remus, not angrily but almost. He really should have told her sooner than he did. It would have saved her a lot of restless sleep and worrying. /p 

p "We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please... i _riddikulus /i _!" Lyla repeated the charm with the rest of the class a few times. /p 

p She had completely forgotten Draco and his goons were still there until she heard him make an unnecessary comment. "This class is ridiculous," he said. His cronies guffawed at his 'joke' while Lyla glared back at the smirking moron. He knew he had struck a nerve with her and she wasn't going to deny it either. He was most likely just trying to get to her because she embarrassed him during lunch. /p 

p He wouldn't have thought the class so ludicrous if his precious Snape was teaching it. Luckily for her and everyone else though, Dumbledore would never allow that. Lyla turned back around smirking to herself with the knowledge that Malfoy would never get his way in this class. She found herself gazing straight ahead as if she was intently listening but that couldn't have been farther from the truth. /p 

p Remus was up front discussing something with Neville while Lyla was scheming farther with her revenge plan on Snape. She glanced back at Malfoy and smirked as she mentally marked him to take the blame for it all. Now all she needed to do was figure out how exactly she was to accomplish that. /p 

p A chorus of laughter broke through the solitude of her mind. She shrugged dismissively thinking that Remus must've said something amusing. "If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn. I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical..." Remus instructed as everyone did just that. /p 

p Lyla had been wondering that very thing since Remus had brought up the subject of boggarts earlier that summer and had yet to come up with an answer. She was going to find out anyway and could turn nearly any situation to a comical one with the way her mind worked so she wasn't too concerned with it all. /p 

p She was brought out of her thoughts when Remus and the rest of the class stepped back away from Neville and the wardrobe. Poor Neville looked terrified but Lyla could tell that he was determined to go through with it. Remus counted to three and opened the wardrobe with his wand. 'Professor Snape' had stepped out of it and was making its way towards Neville. /p 

p If Lyla hadn't been deep in thought earlier she would have heard what was going to happen next. She reasoned with herself, however, that it was well worth the surprise and cramps in her sides from amusement. /p 

p Neville shouted the spell as 'Snape' was reaching for his wand and suddenly a loud cracking sound rang through the air and Professor Snape was no longer in his normal attire of black everything. Instead he was wearing something that both shocked and sickened Lyla, but more than that amused her for she couldn't help that. /p 

p He was now garbed in a long green lacey dress complete with a huge green hat with a stuffed vulture on it and a big red handbag. Lyla looked lower and thought she could see a hint of heel peaking out from under the hem of the dress. She didn't say anything because she was incapable of speech at that time. Pretty much the whole class including Remus but excluding the three Slytherins were laughing at the sight of Snape in a dress. /p 

p Lyla smiled proudly at Neville and Remus. Neville for accomplishing making Boggart Snape get in touch with his more feminine side. Remus for setting it all up which she was sure he did since she knew he didn't like Snape at all and was at times just as bad as her. /p 

p Lyla started gazing around the room once again as Remus called her classmates up one at a time to face the boggart. She wasn't too keen on facing it but would if he called on her. /p 

p Her attention became even more distracted from the class when it was directed towards the back of the room where Malfoy was. Not purposefully though but she was glad she looked that way. Malfoy and his goons had a hold of a fellow unidentified Gryffindor who they were pushing around. /p 

p Lyla growled in aggravation. Why did they have to mess with everyone, specifically Gryffindors? It irritated her to no end and she wanted to make a point to Malfoy that he'd better knock it off or she would not be held accountable for her actions. Further more she wouldn't feel any remorse over any unfortunate events that would happen to them. /p 

p Lyla stalked over to Malfoy and pried the shaking Gryffindor away from them. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle stepped back and stopped taunting the Gryffindor when they saw Lyla approaching. She turned and glared at Malfoy after making sure her classmate was alright. "Are you ever going to stop acting so childish?" she asked angrily. /p 

p "Are you ever going to mind your own business?" Malfoy shot back at her while he reduced the space left between them to nothing. /p 

p "Are you really so pathetic that you have to answer my question with a question?" Lyla asked while rubbing her temple. She could already feel herself getting a headache from him. Malfoy opened his mouth to retort back and she had no doubt that he would point out her use of answering a question with a question, but she didn't give him the chance. /p 

p "When it concerns another Gryffindor, it is my business, whether you like it or not. I really don't care. So I suggest you back off before you regret it." /p 

p Him and his friends ooohhh'ed at Lyla's threat and Malfoy smirked down at Lyla for what seemed the millionth time that day. "And what could you possibly do to me?" /p 

p Lyla contemplated commenting on his use of a question answer again but decided not to waste her breath when she was quite positive he was only doing it to annoy her now. Instead she settled for mentally rolling her eyes and physically smirking at him. She leaned up close so that she was next to his ear and whispered, "You'll see, just remember you i _asked /i _ for it." /p 

p Lyla resumed her place between her brother and Ron, who had just made his worst fear, a spider (a huge spider) roll around on the floor because its legs had vanished. She stepped up as the boggart rolled near her and disappeared. /p 

p Lyla looked around nervously before covering her ears as loud piercing screams rang out from everywhere, echoing throughout the room. Everyone in the room was at least a little terrified because of the sounds but none more than Remus. /p 

p He thought they were from Lyla's dreams but Lyla knew otherwise. She knew her parents screams and could identify them out of millions. These were not theirs, these were different. /p 

p Lyla began shaking as she recognized Rylie's pleas for someone to help her, begging for whatever was happening to stop...Harry calling out to her...Lyla heard herself scream in pain then Remus howling in anger, regret, and sorrow...it was as if he had realized he did something terribly horrible. /p 

p As each sound became clear to her Lyla opened her eyes to see her friend and family materializing one by one in front of her. Rylie was rocking back and forth on the floor crying; cuts and bruises were decorating her face, arms and the skin that was visible through her torn clothing. Some were still bleeding while others were dried up but there was still no part of her that didn't have blood on it. She was calling out Lyla's name begging her to help her. And Lyla wanted more than anything to do so. /p 

p Harry was running towards something and from his screams Lyla figured he was trying to get to her. Harry looked at his scene and was clearly confused. Rylie on the other hand had turned pale as a ghost and was shaking. She gulped and looked away from Lyla's boggart and moved away from her. Lyla couldn't blame her though; she wouldn't want to have to witness something like that. /p 

p The last set of screams/howls frightened Remus more than Lyla. Remus was in his werewolf form, Lyla knew it was him from the way Remus described his werewolf form to her. He was chasing Lyla and had caught her when she tripped over something. /p 

p Lyla's screams filled the silent class as Remus nearly tore her shoulder off. Lyla's lifeless body fell to the floor blood pouring from the fresh wound, soaking the floor of the staffroom. Remus stumbled back and howled angrily towards the sky. /p 

p Lyla forced the screams out of her mind, muffling Remus' yells for her to focus. She was thankful there was no possible way for anyone to connect Remus to her boggart but still wanted to get rid of the repeating scenes in front of her. Lyla closed her eyes and focused her mind on the funniest thing she could ever hope to witness. /p 

p When she opened her eyes again she noticed that the boggart werewolf was no longer howling but charging straight for her. She gasped in surprise while raising her tightly grasped wand and shouting, " i _Riddikulus /i _!" /p 

p The loud crack rang out again; the multiple scenes disappeared and in their places stood Malfoy, but not just your regular everyday Malfoy. No, that wouldn't be humorous at all and Lyla needed something to get everyone's mind--including hers--off of what they'd just witnessed. /p 

p Boggart Malfoy was standing in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers, which were a crimson--Gryffindor--color with little golden snitches and hearts everywhere. His hair had red streaks through most of it. And to top everything off, besides the fact that he looked like a crazed fanatic football spectator complete with face and body paint--still in Gryffindor's colors--Boggart Draco was holding a huge flashing sign that kept changing sayings. The sayings said things like: "Harry Potter #1", "Gryffindor Rulez!", "I love Harry", "Harry is my Hero!", and Lyla's personal favorite, "Marry me Harry!" /p 

p Lyla was satisfied when nearly everyone in the room burst out laughing. Even Crabbe and Goyle found it funny, which only served to infuriate Malfoy even more. Remus was looking relieved and was having trouble restraining himself while Harry, Ron, Rylie and Hermione weren't even trying. /p 

p Lyla allowed herself to laugh even though she was still a little shook up from what she had just seen. She was somewhat upset that what she had seen was preventing her from enjoying the sight before her to the fullest but made a mental note to remember the 'Malfoy Mascot' some other time. /p 

p Lyla smiled slyly over at Malfoy, even though that wasn't quite what she had in mind for getting back at him but it was a start, and she might as well build off of it. /p 

p "Malfoy, are you our new mascot?" Lyla snorted out as she watched his expressions alter with every flash of the sign. Malfoy's reaction was priceless. He had a horrified look on his face that soon changed to disgust as he read the flashing sign. /p 

p However, he did stop looking like he was going to loose his lunch when he heard Lyla's words. He glared at his goons, instantly shutting them up, before directing his glare towards Lyla, "You're going to pay for that one, Evans!" /p 

p Lyla rolled her eyes and looked back at Boggart Malfoy as it gave a squeal of joy that sounded suspiciously like, "Oh my god it's Harry." Apparently that's what it said for it dropped its sign and bounded towards the once laughing now horror-struck Harry, arms outstretched ready to smother Harry in a bear hug and possible smooches. /p 

p Harry raised his wand ready to take on the boggart but before anything could happen, Remus shouted and jumped in front of him. A silvery orb that Lyla later learned her dim-witted classmates had thought was a crystal ball had appeared in the air. Lyla wasn't as senseless as Lavender though. /p 

p She knew it was a full moon floating in the air and hoped even more that people didn't put two and two together. Hardly no one knew that he was her guardian so she doubted they would figure it out, the only ones she had to worry about was Harry and his friends, specifically Hermione. /p 

p The class ended soon after with Neville getting rid of the thoroughly confused boggart and the class left talking animatedly about how awesome the lesson was. Lyla fell back to talk with Remus while the others walked off back to their common rooms. She could tell her guardian was more shook up than he let show. /p 

p She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his middle, trying to comfort and receive comfort from him. He accepted her embrace with open arms. Just as she knew her fears strongly affected him he knew his did her too. /p 

p He rocked her back and forth as she managed to hold back any emotion that may have wanted to show itself. No words were said because no words were needed to express the unsaid. They both knew the other would always be there for them and that would be all they needed. /p 

p Lyla broke the embrace and smiled slightly before grabbing her bag and walking out the door. She had an appointment with a couple of prankster twins she needed to keep. They, by the time she gets there, would have already heard about what she'd done no doubt and would want full details. And Lyla would feel more than obliged to give them, anything to get her mind off of that class which would hopefully turn to more entertaining pursuits, i.e. her prank on Snape. /p 

62


	10. Chapter 10

- Chapter 10 -

[Caution: Overprotective Brother!

p Gryffindors and students from other houses Lyla hadn't even met before were coming up to her everywhere they could over the next few weeks. They had heard about her encounter with the boggart and wanted to congratulate her. None more than the twins though. /p 

p She was right in her assumption that they would have found out before she could tell them. She of course didn't deny any of it but refused to comment on the werewolf and other boggart scenes everyone had seen. The more curious people became about it the more Lyla began to worry someone might figure it out, it was after all quite obvious. /p 

p She had began making it a habit to visit the library as often as she could to study, research and most of all avoid any and all questions her classmates had for her. It was one of the only places they wouldn't go to pester her for information mostly because of Madame Pince, the librarian. They didn't want to be banned from there forever, but they weren't afraid of detentions they would get if caught passing notes to her in class. /p 

p At least they had enough sense not to do so during their Potions lessons. Answers from Lyla were not worth detentions with Snape especially considering the mood he'd been in lately. /p 

p Remus' class had students talking about things other than Lyla and how great the class was, so Snape had undoubtedly heard of Neville's boggart and was none too pleased about it. He would scowl every time he heard something that even sounded remotely close to Lupin, and glare daggers at Lyla just for her association to him. /p 

p He treated Neville worse than before and Lyla wasn't happy about that. She was waiting for the perfect opportunity to say something about Neville's boggart to Snape and figured it was a good a time as any. She was still going to go through with her prank--the excess research time in the library had proved more than helpful--but there was no harm in rubbing salt in the wound while it was still fresh. /p 

p It was the end of an early morning Potions lesson on October the first. They had just finished brewing a particularly easy potion in Lyla's opinion but not everyone thought so. Neville was having a difficult time with it and Snape made sure to take notice. /p 

p Everyone, including Lyla, was cleaning up and packing their things when Snape rounded on poor Neville, unfairly critiquing his potion. Lyla waited till he was finished bullying Neville. He walked away and Lyla made her move. /p 

p She stood next to Neville and loudly whispered, making sure Snape heard her, "Don't worry Neville, I'm sure he's just upset that you revealed his secret desire to be a Drag Queen to everyone." Lyla smirked while turning away to sit in her seat next to a shocked Rylie. /p 

p Snape had turned around so quickly at her comment Lyla was actually surprised he had managed to keep his balance but she didn't dare show it. "What did you just say?" he snarled out at Lyla. /p 

p Lyla's smirk grew knowing she had the attention of the entire class. She feigned an innocent look that she had perfected over the years, "Sir, forgive me please. I was just telling Neville how absolutely stunning I thought you looked in his Grandmother's clothes." /p 

p Many Gryffindors and a few Slytherins started snickering at this but stopped soon after Snape's glare was directed their way. Snape turned back towards Lyla settling the force of his glare entirely on her, hoping to intimidate her. /p 

p The only effect it actually had was to amuse her more making her innocent look turn more mischievous with the glint in her eyes. She didn't bother to hide it and Snape didn't neglect to notice them. He sneered at her, "Is this amusing to you, Miss i _Evans /i _?" Lyla opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off, "I don't appreciate and will not tolerate such remarks in my class. Fifty points from Gryffindor should teach you to hold your tongue." /p 

p Lyla rolled her eyes ditching the innocent bit and going in for the kill as she called it. "Well I was just trying to be nice but if it's the truth you want then fine here it is..." Lyla took a deep breath, "Green is definitely not your color, that dress did absolutely nothing for your figure and the vulture on the hat looked too eerily like you...it was unnerving...I'll be surprised if Neville's not more terrified of you." /p 

p The room grew deadly quiet; a sound Lyla was more than use to by now. Gryffindors were torn between laughing at Lyla's declaration or scowling in anger from the loss of points. The Slytherins were shocked and amused; shocked that she had actually said that to Snape of all people and amused knowing that she was about to get it. /p 

p But Lyla was none of these. She wasn't angry or shocked...maybe a little amused but not for the same reasons as the Slytherins. She just sat there, calmly smirking defiantly up at her fuming Potions Master. /p 

p For the second time since she's known him, he was so angry he couldn't form words. She was proud to say that both times were because of her and by the end of the year she was positive there would be more than just two. /p 

p "Detention, tonight and every night until you learn to hold your tongue!" Snape snarled out through clenched teeth. /p 

p Class was dismissed and Lyla stood with a smile on her face. "See you tonight, Professor," she said cheerfully almost making Snape cancel the detentions right then and there. /p 

p Hermione caught up with Lyla down the hall and scolded her on loosing so many house points. Lyla attempted to ignore her but Hermione didn't let her until Lyla told her to but out and stop sticking her nose where it wasn't wanted nor needed. Hermione scoffed and walked off indignantly. /p 

p Lyla's little spat with Snape proved to be just the thing Lyla needed to get people off her back about the boggart. She gave them a new topic to gossip about and it worked like a charm. No one had come up to her since that day asking about her boggart, they did however prod each other for information on what exactly was said in the class. /p 

p The rest of the month was rather boring though, thanks to her classes and lack of entertainment. Divination was still a laugh but was starting to get rather insipid. Every class it was the same thing: drink awful tasting scolding hot tea, interpret meanings in the tealeaves and listen to Trelawney's next prediction of Harry's death. /p 

p It seemed as though none of the other classes were any better either. Not even the extra ones Lyla had been attending in place of her Divination lessons some times. The teachers didn't mind and Trelawney always says that she had predicted Lyla's absence anyways so Lyla didn't rightly care about missing that class. /p 

p Hermione was ignoring Lyla for the most part, except to make her daily remark about her. Oliver and Lyla were still hanging out less often than before because he had Quidditch practice most nights but Lyla was little by little starting to like him more than previously. /p 

p She didn't want to tell him this for a lot of reasons though. It was his last year at Hogwarts and she was only in her third year, she didn't think he liked her the same way and didn't want to risk ruining their strong friendship. And Harry most likely would not like it in the slightest if they did actually hook up. /p 

p The best part of the rest of the month was probably Malfoy. He hadn't talk to Lyla since the boggart incident. He had however, made a habit of constantly staring at her but she paid no mind to that. /p 

p Part of Lyla was jumping for joy because she hated the bloody git and she thought he had finally learned to stay away from her. He hadn't even caused any problems for her fellow Gryffindors since. The more sensible and less optimistic part of her was wondering what he was plotting. It had to be something big if he was forgoing any torture of her classmates. Whatever it was, Lyla knew she would be ready for it and able to retaliate with something better, faster than he ever could. /p 

p The only thing that kept Lyla out of boredom other than wondering what Malfoy was up to and enjoying the time she spent with Oliver was her detentions. Snape had kept true to his word and Lyla had detention every night that month until the 29th. /p 

p It was a Friday and Lyla went down to the dungeons after dinner like she usually did. Snape was sitting at his desk marking papers when she walked in. He didn't even glance up as he told her that her detention had been canceled and that she was no longer required to go to any. /p 

p Lyla's first thought was that he had run out of tasks for her to do but squashed that thought soon after. He could always make her write lines. And it was a big castle with many teachers and staff members, she was positive he could have found her something to do if he tried. /p 

p Her only answer for him canceling her detentions was that he realized they weren't bothering her at all. Taking away house points didn't even make her flinch, so either he gave up, which she seriously doubted or he was plotting to find a new way of punishing her. Lyla didn't bother arguing or worrying, he couldn't get to her if she didn't let him. /p 

p Other than those few shining moments and Hermione's cat nearly catching Ron's rat; nothing really stood out. Unless of course you counted Lavender Brown sobbing over the death of her rabbit two weeks before Lyla's detentions were canceled. /p 

p Lyla really didn't fancy rabbits at all; she thought they were fluffy minions of doom--she wasn't being overdramatic as Rylie had put it. She'd had too many bad experiences with rabbits to prove her theory was right. How would you explain their eyes with the red glints of evil in them? Their razor-sharp claws ready to tear some ignorant innocent bystanders skin off? Their piercing fangs waiting to bite some kids hand that only wanted to pet the 'pretty little bunny'. /p 

p She had a very hard time sympathizing with the girl, especially after she heard her bawling over the fact that her precious Professor Trelawney was supposedly right. Lyla snorted in disbelief but didn't bother to comment on her being right for once. For Hermione had beaten her to it. /p 

p She did, however, say that she wouldn't be surprised if Trelawney herself had some part in the death of Binky, just to make herself look more credible to her students. That didn't go over too well with Parvati and Lavender, although everyone else seemed to find it amusing--besides Hermione, but Lyla suspected that was only because she was still mad at her. /p 

p Luckily for Lyla she could care less what any of them though about her. The first Hogsmeade trip was coming up on Halloween along with her first ever Halloween feast and she was very excited about those two events. She felt sorry that her brother had to miss out on the trip and didn't understand why Remus would allow her to go, she was after all a Potter and Sirius had seen her. /p 

p He had to have been smart enough to put everything together. Even though she would like to know why she was still allowed to go she didn't dare ask. She didn't want to miss it especially after her special someone asked her to go with him. /p 

p Lyla yawned as she woke from her nap. It was a Saturday and she had been finishing up some last minute homework before dinner so she wouldn't have to worry about it the next day while at Hogsmeade. She was always a procrastinator but at least she could say she was a responsible one. She never missed handing in an assignment and would never hand one in late. Though she always seemed to fall asleep while doing her work and yet had trouble falling asleep at night. /p 

p Lyla looked at her clock and did a double take. She jumped out of her bed and screamed, "I'm late! I'm late!" Lyla halted her movements and smiled, 'For a very important date. No time to say hello goodbye, I'm late! I'm late! I'm late!' she sang in her head as she fixed her clothes, make up and hair making sure she was as presentable as she could manage considering the lack of time. /p 

p She ran out the door, down the steps, through the portrait--with the Fat Lady cursing her all the way--down many more steps, mentally daring any of the staircases to try and change, before finally making it to the Great Hall doors. /p 

p This had been a daily routine for Lyla. She would fall asleep before breakfast and/or dinner while finishing up some work. Rylie would purposefully neglect to wake her up, solely for the inevitable entrance Lyla would make by rushing down to the Great Hall. And what other way to top off her routine than by not being able to stop fast enough and running straight into the painfully solid closed doors. /p 

p Yes, Lyla never failed to accomplish this once or twice a day. Sometimes the doors would open on impact other times they didn't. Those were the times that really hurt. Everyone knew it was her on the other side too. She had told her friends that sooner or later she was bound to find the precise timing so she could make it down there faster without the pain of running into the doors. /p 

p Unfortunately for Lyla she hadn't timed it right that time and ran right smack into the doors, which didn't open. Lyla groaned in pain while getting up and opening the doors. She held her head while thinking she should probably consider slowing down a bit but laughing at her consistency. /p 

p "You're late Lyla," said George as she reached the table and sat down between Harry and Oliver. /p 

p "We were beginning to think you wouldn't run into the doors today," said Fred smiling across the table at her. /p 

p "And that would be," started George. /p 

p "Most disappointing," the twins finished together. /p 

p Lyla looked at them in mock shock and said, "It's nice to know that my pain is fuel for your amusement." The twins only smiled and nodded enthusiastically as Lyla laughed with them while shaking her head at their antics immediately grabbing it in pain after. /p 

p "You alright, Lye?" asked Oliver as he soothingly rubbed her back. /p 

p She had wanted to blurt out, 'I am now,' but settled for a less obvious reply. Lyla smiled innocently up at him, "Those doors are harder than they look." /p 

p The guys and Rylie laughed at her answer but Hermione wasn't quite amused, which was to be expected. She decided to make her comment of the day, "Well if you weren't stupid enough to run into them maybe they wouldn't." /p 

p Lyla didn't miss a beat as she coolly responded back. "And maybe if you didn't get on my nerves you wouldn't get embarrassed as often," she said smirking back at her. Lyla spoke the truth though. Hermione had been getting embarrassed more often in classes each time she shot a comment Lyla's way. /p 

p Lyla wasn't going to stand for Hermione saying things about every little thing she did and not get back at her. At first she couldn't decide what to do about the situation but settled for hitting Hermione where it hurt the most, i.e. showing her up in classes. That was probably the one thing that would do the most damage. /p 

p If Hermione answered a question, any question, correctly Lyla would be sure to contradict everything she said. This usually resulted in a debate between the two of them in most classes and ended with the Professors admitting that Lyla did indeed have a point. Needless to say Hermione's comments grew fewer and farther between as she realized exactly what Lyla was up to. /p 

p Harry, Ron and Rylie all kept quiet, they didn't want to get in the middle of the argument. Oliver busied himself with calming Lyla down, making sure she was alright and eating his dinner, he too didn't want to get in the middle of it all. The twins, on the other hand were all up for getting a chance to witness a cat fight. /p 

p "When are you two just going to settle this dispute the fun way?" asked Fred with a sly grin on his face mirroring the one on his brother's. /p 

p "What fun way is that?" Lyla asked smiling. She already knew what it was for she had done it many times before. /p 

p "Fighting, of course," they replied at the same time. /p 

p "Oh honestly," scoffed Hermione. "I'm sure a good old fashioned brawl would go well on her tainted record but it will most certainly not go anywhere near mine," said Hermione while sticking her nose in the air. /p 

p "Stop talking as though I wasn't here!" Lyla commanded, more serious than she'd been with Hermione. She didn't like when people did that and wasn't about to take it from Miss Priss. "And, oh please! My record is just as clean as yours if not more. I haven't gotten into any trouble other than the detentions from Snape since I got here where as you on the other hand have." /p 

p Hermione opened her mouth in shock and made to protest, but Lyla wasn't in the mood to hear her argue. "Don't even try to deny it because I know for a fact that you break a lot of rules, if not only in your first year but also second and every day of third year so far." /p 

p Hermione dropped her fork at this declaration and paled slightly. Lyla stored her reaction for future reference in her investigation of what Hermione could possibly be up to. She wasn't sure if she was right in her accusations but Hermione's reaction says otherwise. /p 

p "So don't tell me a fight would fit well in my record when it most likely would be more at home in yours," Lyla sneered at her. /p 

p Hermione's mouth had dropped open and she sat there in shock momentarily before she got to her feet, scowling at Lyla and stomped out of the Great Hall. Lyla smiled victoriously and went back to her dinner. Everyone else just stared expectantly at Lyla waiting for an elaborate explanation. /p 

p Sensing unblinking stares focused on her, Lyla look up, "What'd I do now?" /p 

p "Remind us never to get into an argument with you ever again," said George looking fearful at the very thought. /p 

p Lyla's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion and Fred answer her unasked question. "Usually Hermione's the one who wins and you just made her run off." /p 

p "Not only that, but do you see the way she handles Malfoy?" asked George having a conversation with his brother, completely ignoring the fact that she was still there. /p 

p "Yeah, he can't come up with anything to say back to her." /p 

p "You think he's afraid of her?" /p 

p "Most definitely, ever since that day she stood up for that Gryffindor in DADA he hasn't been the same." /p 

p "Hasn't poked fun at anyone." /p 

p "Hasn't tortured poor innocent 'ickle firsties." /p 

p "He's left Harry alone for crying out loud!" exclaimed Fred before him and his twin turned to face Lyla, finally acknowledging her presence. /p 

p "What'd you do to make him act non-Slytherin like?" they asked simultaneously. /p 

p Lyla blinked at them, she had nothing to say because she didn't know the answer. She had no idea why Malfoy wasn't acting like himself. His last words to her were that she was going to regret her boggart imitation of him. But so far nothing had happened to make her regret her actions even though she was fairly certain nothing could possibly make her regret that. /p 

p "Maybe he likes you," Rylie said thoughtfully. Lyla glanced at Rylie and she stared back seriously. She looked back at the twins and they stared quietly at each other before her and everyone else besides Rylie burst out laughing. /p 

p "Yeah right, like he would like me. First of all I'm a Gryffindor and you told me all about how he hates all of us. Secondly," she made sure to lower her voice, "I'm a Potter, more importantly I'm the i _twin /i _ sister of Harry Potter, his enemy," Lyla was about to point out the third reason of why Malfoy most definitely did not like her but Rylie cut her off and argued her side. /p 

p "But he doesn't know that yet. Neither does hardly anyone else for that matter and certainly no one that would tell Malfoy." /p 

p The others nodded their agreement and Lyla looked at them in disbelief that they would actually support such an outrageous theory although she did admit that Rylie had a point. Malfoy didn't know who Lyla was related to and Lyla wasn't too keen on telling him or anyone else either. "While that may be true it still doesn't rule out everything else. Add to my argument the fact that I'm not a pureblood and I think I've made my case. Malfoy's more disgusted with me than anything really." /p 

p Rylie and the others agreed that Malfoy most likely did not like her. Lyla thought it might have been her imagination but her friends seemed a little sad and quieter than they'd earlier been after realizing this. She laughed to lighten the mood and said, "Hey guys don't act too happy about it. If you guys really want it that badly, I can always sacrifice myself to the cause and make him like me for ya'll." /p 

p (A/N: yes she did just say ya'll...she may have a English accent like the rest of them but she tends to branch off from that quite a bit. You could say that she has a love for languages...well words specifically) /p 

p Her friends laughed with Lyla and she was glad they'd snapped out of it. There was not enough magic in the world that could force her to even attempt doing anything other than mocking to Malfoy. Lyla looked up and glanced at the Slytherin table noticing that Draco was once again looking over her way only this time he was glaring more than just blatantly staring. He must've sense she was mocking him. Something like the spidey senses Spiderman has, just less spiffy. /p 

p "I guess it was too good to be true. He's back to sending death glares my way." The guys looked up and glared back at him. Lyla noticed that Harry and Oliver looked as if they were literally daring him to try something. /p 

p She jumped in surprise when she felt Oliver slide his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Lyla smiled up at him, "Having fun are we?" /p 

p He returned her smile with a heart melting one of his own and nodded, "Always when you're around, never a dull moment in that case." Lyla laughed even more at this, not because of what Oliver had said but because Malfoy now looked like he wanted to kill Oliver and was incredibly amusing to look at when confused. /p 

p "Would you two like to share something with the rest of the class?" asked Rylie smirking at Lyla, receiving a glare back. She knew Lyla liked Oliver, but then again so did every other girl in Hogwarts with eyes, and she was using that little bit of knowledge to her advantage. /p 

p She tells Lyla everything and Lyla tells her everything too, well what she can tell her anyway. She still hasn't told anyone about the 'Sirius situation' and she wasn't planning on it either. She wasn't going to tell anyone about how she'd seen him around school lurking in the forest. Although that wasn't quite the whole truth, she had only seen him once and even then she wasn't quite positive she i _had /i _ seen him at all. Other than that though, Rylie knew pretty much everything else about Lyla. /p 

p "I don't know. Why don't you tell us first and maybe we'll let you in on the secret." Lyla smiled in triumph as Rylie backed away from the conversation blushing. Ron looked back and forth between the two girls dying to know what was going on, especially since it involved Rylie. Lyla thought he was being a little too curious and had her suspicions about Ron's feelings for Rylie. /p 

p Lyla was relieved that the subject of her and Oliver had been dropped but she sighed too soon. Harry was probably far too curious now for his own good. "What is going on between you two? You've been hanging out a lot lately, are you dating or something?" /p 

p She of course was ready to deny that to her grave but found that she didn't have to. Oliver surprised her by answering Harry's question, "Would there be a problem with that?" /p 

p Lyla swore her eyes would've popped out had she not blinked. Her jaw dropped and she was fairly certain her face was turning a lovely shade of red. In fact she could already feel the heat rising from it. The twins were sitting across from her snickering until she kicked their shins, shutting them up for the time being. /p 

p "Yes there's a problem, a big problem!" shouted Harry while getting to his feet. /p 

p Oliver followed suit and did the same, "And what's that exactly?" /p 

p "She's a third year, meaning 13! You're in your seventh year, that's a four year age difference!" /p 

p "Glad you can count, Harry. Did you use all ten fingers or did you have to use your toes too?" Lyla asked sarcastically but soon shut up at the glare that was sent her way. /p 

p 'Damn, I never knew he had it in him to play the overprotective brother.' Lyla thought as she silently watched the argument between her brother and close friend unfold. /p 

p "You're going to be leaving after this year, to do who knows what, while she's going to be stuck here for another four years. Those are the problems I have with you wanting to date, my--Lyla." /p 

p Lyla shot him a hard look; he almost slipped and said sister. 'Yeah like that would go over well with everyone, although it would be pretty funny to see the look on Malfoy's face.' /p 

p "Your Lyla?! She doesn't belong to you! If I want to date her and she wants to date me then we'll date. You have no say in that," shouted Oliver stepping up to Harry. /p 

p Oliver was much taller than Harry but he didn't back down. In fact he stepped up to Oliver even more. "Like she'll ever want to go out with you," Harry sneered at Oliver. Lyla decided that sneering was not a good look for Harry. He was starting to act a lot like Malfoy which made Lyla hold back a laugh at the thought. /p 

p "Oh really?" said Oliver laughingly. He turned and faced Lyla and said, "Tomorrow's a Hogsmeade visit, the guys and I were planning on going together but I'd much rather go with you. So you want to go with me?" /p 

p He looked sort of hopeful but Lyla wasn't sure if it was all just to show her brother up or if he really did want to go with her. Either way Lyla didn't care. The way she saw it she got to go to Hogsmeade with Oliver, who cares about his reasons for wanting to go with her. Well she did actually but at the moment she was content in just accepting the offer. /p 

p She smiled at him, completely ignoring Harry's demanding brother stare and said, "I would love to." Harry looked at her astonished that she would agree to it, even though he made it quite clear that he was totally against it. /p 

p Oliver smiled while holding back from reacting the way he really had wanted to and sat back down placing his arm back around Lyla's waist. He would be back in his dorm soon enough and would have plenty of time to annoy his roommates with his joyfulness. /p 

p Everyone in the Great Hall, teachers included, had listened in on the argument. It was kind of hard not to when the two of them were making a scene, but Lyla couldn't have cared less. She was going to Hogsmeade with Oliver. She was so happy she could jump for joy and planned on it when she didn't have an audience even if she still wasn't sure if he actually liked her or not. /p 

p Lyla looked up and listened as the twins fooled around, but her attention was drawn away and past them to the Slytherin table. Draco was looking back at her, not glaring and looking angry but staring placidly looking almost…hurt? /p 

p No, that wasn't possible. Lyla could understand Malfoy being physically hurt; he was a bit of a wimp in that case. Mentally hurt was believable also considering how small his brain must be thanks to that thick skull of his. But the thought of Malfoy being emotionally hurt was just absurd. You had to have a heart to have emotions and have them hurt...and Lyla was pretty sure Malfoy had no heart. /p 

p Then what exactly was the look she saw on his face, if it was even there to begin with? And why did she feel guilty when she saw it? Lyla was confused as to why he was giving her that look but decided to ignore it; after all she did hate him. 'Ok, I dislike him a great deal, but only because the word hate is strictly reserved for Voldemort and quite possibly Snape but that's still undecided.' /p 

p Dinner was over soon after all the excitement died down and Lyla, Rylie and the guys walked back to the common room, the guys going to their dorm rooms while Rylie literally dragged Lyla to theirs. Once they were safely inside the room Rylie started squealing, "This is so great! Are you excited? Of course you're excited! It's Oliver for crying out loud!" /p 

p Lyla grabbed Rylie by her shoulders and made her stop jumping around. "Whoa, Rylie calm down. Breathe, who am I going to have girl talks with if you die by suffocating yourself? Fred? George? Gasp at the thought of it but...Harry?" Rylie took a deep breath and giggled. "It's really not that big of a deal anyway..." she said as an afterthought /p 

p The girls were quiet for a few seconds before Lyla jumped up and down and said, "It's a big deal! I can't wait for tomorrow!" Rylie and Lyla celebrated a little more before the rest of the girls became annoyed and told them to keep the noise level down. /p 

p They changed into their pj's before situating themselves on Lyla's bed for a little more girl talk. "You know what's weird?" Lyla asked as Malfoy's earlier unidentified look replayed in her mind. /p 

p "What, the fact that no girl has tried to kill you yet for being with Oliver?" /p 

p Lyla laughed slightly and said, "No. Well yes, but that's not quite what I was thinking, but thanks for making me afraid to fall asleep tonight." /p 

p She shrugged nonchalantly, "No problem, it's what I'm here for. So, what's weird?" /p 

p "Malfoy..." Lyla replied, trailing off in her sentence and trying to word what she was trying to say. /p 

p "And you're just figuring this out now?" /p 

p "No! I mean...ever since I first met him, he's been a pain and it's quite obvious to everyone that we hate each other...with a passion. But tonight at dinner he was glaring at Oliver when he put his arm around me and then he looked kind of...I don't know. It looked like he was hurt when I agreed to go to Hogsmeade with Oliver." /p 

p Rylie got a told-ya-so look on her face and smiled at Lyla. "I don't find this very funny, Rye." /p 

/p "I'm sorry," she said still smiling at her oblivious friend. "It's just that, you can't see it." /p 

p "See what exactly?" Lyla asked confused about what she should be seeing. /p 

p "Malfoy," Rylie said, as if it were the most obvious thing on the planet. /p 

p Lyla's face looked horror-struck at the thought, "What makes you think I want to see him?" /p 

p Rylie rolled her eyes and said, "Not like that, I mean I was right...he likes you." /p 

p Lyla laughed in disbelief, "I'm still confident that I'm right. There's just no way. Did you happen to miss my little speech on us hating each other...with a passion?!" /p 

p Rylie sighed in agitation, "No I didn't miss it but it's pretty obvious that he does like you. I mean think about it, he's probably been on his best behavior this past month to get you to like him back. It's the only logical answer, considering he hasn't even poked fun at Harry, Ron or Hermione. I bet you a galleon that by Monday he'll be back to his old self now that you're with Oliver and he's realized that he has no chance with you." /p 

p "I don't have anything to lose and considering the fact that I never turn down a bet I'll take you up on that one. But the only logical answer I see around here is that everyone in this place is a nutcase. Now I'm going to sleep, I need my beauty sleep to look good for Oliver tomorrow. 'Night Rye." /p 

p Rylie smiled and said, "'Night Lye." She knew by Monday she'd be a galleon richer. /p 


	11. Chapter 11

- Chapter 11 -

[Hogsmeade with...Draco?

p Lyla woke up the next morning well rested and alive. She was glad none of the girls tried to kill her in her sleep. That would have ruined everything. She glanced at her clock and was pleased to note that she was actually not late, but in fact really early. /p 

p She took her time getting ready, since she actually had the time to properly prepare; she didn't rush anything and made sure everything was absolutely faultless. She had no doubt the day was going to be perfect so she thought she might as well put a little effort into everything. /p 

p Lyla was tired of having to wear skirts everyday and decided that since she didn't have to wear her uniform that she could finally let her true style show. She chose to wear a pair of black trousers complete with a red leather built in belt that hung low on her hips. Her top was a black and red corset-like spaghetti strap with a similar looking zip-up hoodie. She kept it unzipped because it wasn't that cold outside. Her black sneakers with white skulls on the side topped off her outfit. /p 

/p Lyla left her hair down and straightened it.

She put on her black lace choker with red ribbons and black roses on it. Did her makeup dark with thick black eyeliner, reddish eye shadow, dark maroon mascara and a rose colored lip gloss. /p 

p By the time Lyla was finished preparing herself for the day it was time for breakfast and then it was off to Hogsmeade with Oliver! Rylie was no where in sight so Lyla figured she had already left. She was spending the day with Ron and Hermione. Neither one of the girls were happy about the other being there. /p 

p Lyla strolled down to the Great Hall and through the doors. Yes walked through, not slammed through/into. She was very proud of herself for that and figured that everyone else probably noticed since they were all quietly staring at her. /p 

p Lyla glanced around nervously. It was a possibility that people were staring at her because of her 'lack of entrance' but when they didn't stop gawking, she knew her casual arrival wasn't the raison d'être. Most of the guys, including Draco, Oliver and Harry were staring at Lyla with their jaws dropped open and some of the girls, except Rylie, were glaring at her. /p 

p Smiling questioningly at Rylie, Lyla made her way over to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Oliver. She waited for someone to say something, but no one took the initiative. Everyone else had already gone back to what they were doing except her friends and...Draco, but he usually stared at her so she didn't bother to think of his reasons. /p 

p "Ok is anyone going to say something?" she asked impatiently. /p 

p That seemed to work well to snap them out of what ever it was they were in. "I think they were just stunned by how good you look. The school uniforms aren't very flattering, you know." /p 

p Lyla laughed and agreed with her. She did have a point though, their uniforms weren't very flattering. "Lyla, you look...wow. There are just no words for it." Lyla smiled shyly at Oliver's compliment and looked down, letting her hair fall down over her shoulders covering her face and the blush that had appeared. /p 

p Across from her Harry was shaking his head, "You're not seriously going out like that are you?" /p 

p Lyla raised an eyebrow at Harry in disbelief. She understood him being the overprotective brother when it came to guys and his sister, but he had neither say nor the right i _to__ /i _ say anything about how she dressed. There wasn't even anything indecent about her outfit anyhow. /p 

p "And if I am?" she asked crossly, crossing her arms over her chest for an accentuated look of defiance. /p 

p "I think you and I need to have a little talk in private," he said while getting up. /p 

p Lyla rolled her eyes, "Look Harry, I dress like this all the time, before you even knew me. You had no say in what I wore then and you don't have any now, so just back off." /p 

p "Excuse me for not wanting you to show your body to the whole school." /p 

p Lyla laughed in shock, "Would you listen to yourself? I show more skin in my uniform than this!" Harry sighed in defeat and decided to let it go realizing he wasn't going to win. Which in fact was true, he really wasn't. Remus never won any arguments about her clothes and he wasn't going to either. /p 

p Obviously sensing the tension in the air Oliver rose to his feet and suggested that they both be on their way; Lyla agreed. She didn't want everything to be awkward around Oliver, and the way Harry was acting was like that was his objective all along. /p 

p On their way out the Great Hall doors they heard the twins shouting for them to behave themselves. Lyla laughed at that knowing that Harry would probably be more anxious over what the two were actually doing. 'Oh well, he needs to learn to relax and trust me a little.' /p 

p The road to Hogsmeade was quite a long walk. Around the lake where Lyla flown over with Harry, passed the Quidditch pitch, where Lyla had still yet to get on a broomstick and further down a path to the village. She contemplated asking Oliver for some lessons but thought better on it. Harry would more than likely blow a gasket if he found out; he was after all the one who offered to teach her in the first place. And he seemed to be looking forward to it; she couldn't do that to her meddlesome brother no matter how much she'd rather have Oliver teach her. /p 

p Despite the length of the walk, Lyla and Oliver took that time to talk about all sorts of random subjects. Both were purposefully steering clear of the subject of liking the other beyond friendship. Even though Lyla was slightly disappointed by this, she let it slide, not wanting it to interfere and prevent her from enjoying her time with Oliver. /p 

p Once in the village Oliver gave her his own version of a tour complete with cheesy commentary on the shops and owners. After simply browsing around and not actually entering any of the shops Oliver led Lyla back the way they came and to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer. /p 

p They had already spent most of the day exploring Hogsmeade and it was far past afternoon when they left the Three Broomsticks, warmed up from their drinks. Earlier Oliver had mentioned they had huge blocks of chocolate at Honeydukes Sweetshop and given Lyla's love of all things sweet, especially chocolate, this had immediately caught her attention. /p 

p They were about to enter the shop when the Weasley twins came running up to them. "There you are, we've been looking for you everywhere," said Fred out of breath. Lyla figured they'd been running around the village and thought it funny that they didn't check the Three Broomsticks; her and Oliver had spent most of the day there. /p 

p Oliver wondering what could possibly be so important that it actually got the twins running asked, "Something wrong?" /p 

p They nodded, wide eyed and looking bothered and George said, "Snape caught us in the hall a while after you two left. He sent us to bring you back." /p 

p Lyla couldn't believe her ears. Snape did not cancel her detention last Friday and the rest of them just to take her away from her first Hogsmeade trip. "You're not serious are you?" Lyla asked hoping they were just joking. They looked at each other then back at her and shook their heads. /p 

p "You've got to be kidding me! He said all my detentions were canceled!" shouted Lyla angrily. "Lying bastard..." she muttered loudly. /p 

p "Um...Lyla?" said Fred gaining her attention once again before slowly saying, "We're not here for you." /p 

p Lyla was confused, "Then...?" /p 

p They nodded and George said, "We're here to tell Oliver he's needed back at Hogwarts." /p 

p "Snape mentioned something about him not being able to play in the upcoming game because his work has been 'unsatisfactory as of late'," said Fred in a very good impersonation of Snape. Lyla would have laughed if she weren't so upset. /p 

p "So we high tailed it down here to get him." /p 

p Oliver had stayed quite through most of the conversation and Lyla looked back at him to make sure he was still conscious. She wouldn't have been surprised if he fainted at the news. /p 

p He i _was__ /i _ conscious though, but had gone very pale at the very mention of him not being able to play in the game. Lyla knew from other people and from Oliver himself that he was Quidditch obsessed but she had no idea exactly how deep that obsession really ran. /p 

p Lyla could tell Oliver was upset about having to leave, but she also knew that nothing was going to stop him from leaving. Quidditch was just too important to him. Lyla had a feeling that even if they ever did start dating that she still wouldn't come close to being as important to him as Quidditch was. /p 

p That thought was upsetting to her but it still didn't stop her from liking him. She actually liked the fact that he was so passionate about something. Her only wish was that it was her he was passionate about instead of some sport. "Men," Lyla muttered while rolling her eyes. /p 

p Oliver promised to make it up to Lyla even though she told him it wasn't necessary, he still insisted. He ran off towards the castle while Lyla stood there with the twins, cursing Snape and his whole ancestry. Her attention was diverted from bad mouthing her Potions Master to her ginger headed friends however. /p 

p They were grinning evilly at her, the mischievous glint in their eyes matched were all too familiar to Lyla. Remus had described to her the very same look the twins had matching her own when she was about to do something terribly humorous to someone. A knot formed in Lyla's stomach and a lump made its way up her throat. They had something up their sleeves and it surely was nothing good for her. /p 

p Their wands were out and the spells had been cast before Lyla had any time to react. She didn't catch the words but knew nothing good would possibly come of them. She couldn't even threaten them to reverse what ever it was they had done because they were already off and running back to Hogwarts, shouting good luck back at her. Which she was most likely to need, not knowing what they did to her. /p 

p She checked her outfit and face to make sure it wasn't anything physical. There wasn't anything visibly wrong with her or her clothing. Lyla sighed in relief that it wasn't something like that. /p 

p Since she had nothing better to do and it was getting late out she turned around and started heading back for Hogwarts. She wasn't going to bother tracking down Rylie and them. For one thing Hermione was with them and Lyla really didn't feel like dealing with her. /p 

p She was nearing the Three Broomsticks when she remembered Oliver mentioning the Shrieking Shack. Fred and George said that they couldn't figure out how to get in to it and Lyla figured if she did it would be a great way to get one up on them. After all she still had no clue what spells had been put on her, she needed all the leverage she could get against them. /p 

p Lyla had a feeling someone was following her but figured she was just being paranoid. She was after all only walking alone down a deserted road in the forest. The trees were so thick none of the remaining light from the sky could penetrate the high branches. Not that it mattered much, the sky was getting darker and darker anyway and she was on her way to visit the supposedly most haunted building in Britain. /p 

p Of course her nerves would be a little unsteady. The fact that Sirius Black had for some reason made its way into her thoughts didn't help at all either. She had seen him on the school grounds by/in the Forbidden Forest i _and__ /i _ he had been sighted near Hogsmeade. She had just reasons for her paranoia. /p 

p She reached the end of the path and looked up at the dilapidated building. It didn't look haunted or frightening in any way. It was just an old, unstable building that happened to sound like it were making possible shrieking noises because of the wind blowing through cracks in the wall. It was run down and looked about ready to crumble to the ground at any moment. But if it was one thing Lyla had learned thus far it was that looks could be deceiving. /p 

p She stood there watching it sway back and forth for a while before actually attempting to make her way into it. She didn't even get close enough to touch it though. Something had grabbed her hand and was dragging her away from the building. /p 

p For a brief moment Lyla thought of Sirius Black again and panicked. She whirled around a smacked the guy who had a hold of her hand upside the back of his head none too gently hoping to get him to let go. She noticed at the last second before her hand connected with his head that it was Draco Malfoy and not Sirius Black who had grabbed her hand. /p 

p She probably could have stopped herself from hitting him but didn't bother to. He should've known it would've been a consequence of sneaking up on her. Although he didn't drop her hand he did stop dragging her along and that was something at least. /p 

p "What was that for?!" He shouted while rubbing the back of his head. /p 

p Lyla raised an eyebrow at his question, "You're joking right?" /p 

p "No, I'm not bloody joking. Why'd you hit me for?" he asked angrily while turning to face her completely. /p 

p Lyla gazed at Malfoy; he couldn't possibly be i _that__ /i _ dense. "Oh well let's see, you were following me. No, I suppose the better term would probably be stalking. Then you grab me and start dragging me away. I don't know about you but those sound like just causes for smacking you to me." /p 

p Malfoy growled angrily, "Don't you go turning this on me. I'm keeping you out of trouble!" He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Are you completely mental? Don't you know what that is?" /p 

/p "I don't like to repeat myself but in this case I'll make an exception: You're joking right? You, keep me out of trouble, oh that's rich. And at the moment I don't have an answer to your 'mental question' so I'd prefer to plead the fifth on that one till my therapist gets back to me with my diagnosis." /p 

p Lyla took a breath after her little ramble and went on. "Lastly, that over there is the Shrieking Shack, said to be the most haunted place in Britain; I would like to find out why and was about to till you felt compelled to get in the way and 'keep me out of trouble.'" She was instantly feeling satisfied with her response, knowing it had ticked him off. /p 

p She would never admit it, but she was starting to miss fighting and pissing him off. There was still Hermione but she never put up much of a fight so it wasn't quite worth it. And she wasn't even close to being as cute as Malfoy was when angry. Lyla cringed at her last thought, she knew that she found him attractive but when factored in with his personality there really wasn't much to him other than good looks. /p 

p Surprisingly Malfoy didn't yell or get mad like Lyla thought he would, which was disappointing for her as she was strangely looking forward to it. He simply calmed himself down and said, "Fine. You want to go in there and never come back, then go right on ahead. See if I care." /p 

p Lyla bit her tongue trying to stop herself from saying what she really wanted to say, but she couldn't resist it. It was just too easy, "Obviously you do care. I mean you did take the time to stalk me all the way here and then stop me--momentarily--from entering the Shack." /p 

p Malfoy rolled his eyes and turned to walk away, not even dignifying Lyla's response with one of his own. It was then however that Lyla noticed he still had a firm hold on her hand. "Um...you said I could go. So...why are you still dragging me away?" /p 

p He stopped and pulled on Lyla's hand a couple times before saying, "What the--" /p 

p Both Malfoy and Lyla couldn't believe what was happening. Her right hand had somehow gotten stuck together with his left one, so it looked like they were holding hands, fingers laced and everything. /p 

p "What the hell did you do?" Lyla yelled while tugging harder at their conjoined hands in hopes of getting unstuck. She only succeeded in pulling Malfoy closer to her. /p 

p He smirked at their closeness, "I didn't realize you wanted me this bad Lyla." /p 

p 'I didn't realize I wanted you at all,' Lyla thought while mentally rolling her eyes. She decided to mess with his head a little. She smiled seductively and leaned into him, "Oh yes, I've always wanted you, more than you can...ever...imagine." /p 

p She leaned in even closer acting like she was actually going to kiss him. She was more than a little confused though, when she didn't see his usual cocky smirk but a genuine smile. It was as if he wanted Lyla to say all that. /p 

p Malfoy leaned down, closing the gap between them. His lips were mere centimeters away when Lyla moved off to the side, tripping the both of them in the process. /p 

p She stayed on the ground laughing, not only because she had tripped herself. That was only the minor reason the majority of her reason for laughing was at the thought of Rylie actually being right about Malfoy liking her. It would certainly explain his recent actions but she tossed that thought out. He was most likely only playing along. /p 

p Malfoy mumbled something that sounded a lot like, "Stupid bint," as he got to his feet, helping Lyla up at the same time. "Now what are we supposed to do?" /p 

p She shrugged, having long since come to the conclusion that those troublesome Weasley's were behind this mishap, "I suppose we go to Zonko's. See if he can aid us in our dilemma. The twins are frequent customers; he has to have something in the place to undo this." /p 

/p He made no move or comment on whether he was up for it or not so Lyla just sighed in irritation and started walking back towards the village. She could hear him complaining about being dragged around everywhere and having to go into that horrid shop but Lyla just ignored him. She was far too busy glancing around to avoid any stragglers from Hogwarts that may still be lurking around. /p 

p Fortunately for them, they all seemed to have left early, no doubt to get ready for the feast. Lyla cursed at her luck; if they didn't hurry they'd miss it altogether. At that thought Lyla picked up her speed and in no time was literally sprinting towards Zonko's Joke Shop; Malfoy struggling to keep up with her. /p 

p They made it to Zonko's in no time thanks to Lyla's speed. At one point she thought Malfoy's feet weren't even on the ground anymore as she was dragging him. /p 

p Upon entering the shop Lyla could tell at once why it was so appealing to the twins. Most of the objects on the shelves she had never seen before which wasn't that surprising. She couldn't wait until the next Hogsmeade trip when she could actually enjoy it and take her time to thoroughly rummage around the shop. /p 

p "Can I help you, Miss?" asked an older man who cast a questioning look behind her at Malfoy who was sneering uncomfortably at his surroundings. /p 

p The old man was standing behind a cluttered counter which held an old cash register and multiple amounts of trick sweets and toys that made Lyla's eyes twinkle with mischief. He was tall, thin and grey haired with a bit of innocence to him. Lyla could see right through it though being an expert on the look herself. /p 

p The old man, who later introduced himself as Mr. Zonko, took a fast liking to Lyla. He could obviously see a fellow trickster in her and those were always welcome in his shop. "As a matter of fact, Sir, I was hoping you could. Two of your customers and very good friends of mine seemed to have found it funny to place a few spells on me that I have no idea how to reverse. Basically, it literally stuck me to him," she said motioning to Malfoy while placing their hands on an empty space on the counter. /p 

p Mr. Zonko's eyes seemed to brighten with recognition, "Ah, so you're the Miss. Lyla Evans I've been hearing so much about from those Weasleys. It's an honor to meet you Miss," Lyla smiled slightly and nodded as Mr. Zonko gave an over dramatic sweeping bow. /p 

p "They've told me a lot about you, especially of all the mischief you've pulled since you're arrival here. I do believe they didn't miss a single detail those two, most remarkable and commemorable your stunts were if I do say so myself. Tell me," he said while leaning closer and lowering his voice, "Did you really say Snape looked 'stunning' in that dress, to his face?" /p 

p Lyla bit her lip while smiling and nodded her head. It was official; Mr. Zonko was the coolest adult she had ever met, although she would never admit to that, what if word got back to Remus that would be bad for her. Malfoy cleared his throat gaining Mr. Zonko's attention, "Can you do anything about this or not?" /p 

p Mr. Zonko completely ignored Malfoy and addressed Lyla with his response. "I guess this answers my question on i _who__ /i _ they were going to use that on," he said as he examined their hands. /p 

p Lyla thought on his last statement for a second. They hadn't had any Hogsmeade trips that year; so far this one was the first. So unless they had this planned last year--which she seriously doubted on account of them not knowing her and all--their whole spiel with Oliver was a set up. Meaning they had ruined Lyla's date with Oliver for nothing, and ultimately got her stuck to Malfoy of all people. /p 

p Mr. Zonko began speaking again, reinforcing her theory with every word, "I'd just seen them earlier today and showed them the spell. It's quite easy to cast and they were very interested in learning it. Since they're my best customers I certainly had no objections in teaching it to them. They ran off soon after conversing with each other...they didn't answer me when I asked what they were up to. Not that I expected them to either. A great prankster doesn't give up any details of his plan unless truly necessary." /p 

p "Sounds like my motto," she muttered thoughtfully. "So, since you taught them the spell you must know how to reverse it," she said smiling brightly of hope. /p 

p Mr. Zonko gave a slight cringing smile, "I'm sorry to tell you this Miss Evans." Lyla's smile faltered and went away, her shoulders drooping as she listened. "I do know how to reverse it, but I don't know which one the twins chose." /p 

p Lyla gave a confused, "Huh?" in response, while Malfoy glared angrily wanting to get away from the place as soon as possible. /p 

p "There are three ways to undo this spell," he said. "Only the casters can choose which one it is." /p 

p Lyla groaned unhappily not liking the situation she was in one bit. "So what are my three options?" she asked uncertainly. /p 

p Mr. Zonko glanced at Malfoy and looked at Lyla sympathetically. Lyla knew from that look alone that her options could not be good at all. /p 

p "Well there's telling each other your deepest secret, revealing how you truly feel about each other, or the last choice which from what I can tell, you wont be willing to do Miss." /p 

p "It can't possibly be as bad as the other two options," Lyla sighed while rubbing her temple. She could feel a headache forming already. /p 

p "You have to kiss each other," he said preparing for her reaction. /p 

p "I stand corrected, and there is no way in hell I'm doing that!" she said, raising her voice at no one in particular. A few items on the shelves seemed to shudder at her raised voice. /p 

p Malfoy laughed from behind Lyla, "Sure, I see the way you look at me. This is probably a dream come true for you." He smirked down at Lyla thinking that he was right but he couldn't have been farther from the truth. /p 

p She rolled her eyes at him, "Oh get over yourself, Malfoy. I'm not like those Slytherin sluts that hang all over you." /p 

p "Right, if you felt the need to bring up or better yet even notice those sluts then you must feel something towards me." He argued still thinking he was on to something. /p 

p "If you mean utter revulsion at the very mention of your name, then yes. I feel something towards you," she snapped back already annoyed enough by her current situation. /p 

p Mr. Zonko tried his hardest to keep a straight face but Lyla could see he was very amused by their argument. She could tell it wasn't very hard to get the man amused in the first place; he was the owner of a joke shop after all. He decided to intervene, not wanting a crime scene in his joke shop. It would be bad for business. /p 

p "Miss Evans," he said gently, almost soothing to her. /p 

p She smiled as she faced him, ignoring a rather red and raging Malfoy. "Please, call me Lyla." /p 

p He nodded and smiled, "Lyla, I have a few products I'm willing to give you for possible revenge on the twins. I do believe the results will be up to your standards." /p 

p Lyla smiled slyly and took out her money bag, but Mr. Zonko stopped her. "No, none of that, this one's on the house." Lyla made to argue but he didn't let her, "I must insist since this seems to be partially my fault and I do feel rather responsible and guilty. I only ask," he went on sensing Lyla wanted to protest, "that you inform me of your pranks and the result of this one. I do very much enjoy your work and look forward to seeing more." /p 

p Lyla laughed and nodded while accepting his gift. It was in a bag and Lyla didn't want to open it just yet. She might change her mind later and decide to use whatever it was on Malfoy. She waved goodbye to Mr. Zonko and dragged Malfoy out of the shop. /p 

p With new resolution for revenge against those troublesome twins Lyla strolled down the street of Hogsmeade village back towards Hogwarts. Malfoy was walking behind her mumbling to himself as if Lyla couldn't hear him but she did. /p 

p "They talk as if what they did was a form of art or something. That's barbaric thinking, that is. The type of thing only mudbloods and blood traitors would be into," he snarled at no one. /p 

p Lyla stopped in her tracks; they were past the Three Broomsticks by now and on the path that led to Hogwarts. She turned to face Malfoy, "As a matter of fact pranks are art, it's just people like you who don't have an appreciation for it. I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand it." /p 

p "You mean a pureblood?" /p 

p "I mean a moron," she snapped back in exasperation, loosing her patience with Malfoy with every word he spoke. Lyla turned and started walking again not wanting to hear Malfoy's response. She had enough of a headache as it was she didn't need his whining to make it worse. /p 

p Lyla glanced up ahead, she could see the castle clearly now and nearly cried out in disappointment. The Great Hall was lit brightly and from where Lyla was standing she could tell it was fully occupied meaning the feast had already started. /p 

p "I must have the worst luck ever. It wasn't enough that my first ever Hogsmeade trip had to be ruined, no certainly not. That'd be too easy and not fun in the slightest," she stated, muttering bitterly, not caring that Malfoy was most likely listening. /p 

p She sighed sadly, "I should be back in my dorm with Rylie, getting ready for my first ever Halloween feast, but instead, where am I? Here, i _literally__ /i _stuck with the biggest prat in existence!" /p 

p Malfoy stopped abruptly, forcing Lyla to a halt. She looked back at him and was a little startled to see how angry he looked. She had said worse things than that to him before, why was this getting to him? Lyla didn't want to let him see that she was intimidated by him so she kept her calm. /p 

p "Do you think you're the only one having an awful time? Do you have any idea what it's like to have to listen to your annoying voice all day? No wonder Oliver ditched you; he probably couldn't stand it anymore." /p 

p Lyla glared at Malfoy, finding her courage again at his harsh words. "You have no clue of what you're talking about so shut it Malfoy! Oliver didn't ditch me. Not that it's any of your business but the twins tricked him into leaving." /p 

p Malfoy just smirked like he had won, which confused her greatly for she knew she was right. So unless he had something up his sleeve, she had won the argument. "You keep telling yourself that Lyla and you might just believe it. A word of advice though; you can't blame those Weasleys for everything. Sooner or later the truth's going to come out." /p 

p "There's nothing i _to__ /i _ believe, Malfoy. I don't need to convince myself of anything because that's the truth." Lyla paused for a second and looked back at Malfoy, suddenly having a thought she needed to state. "Maybe you're the one in denial." /p 

p Malfoy scoffed laughingly, "Denial? What could I possibly be in denial about?" /p 

p At the sight of Lyla's smirk Malfoy gulped nervously but covered it up with a fake cough. "There's two possibilities..." she said slowly. "One is that you're denying what you truly feel towards me, which would invoke jealousy at the subject of Oliver and would explain a lot." /p 

p Lyla could tell she was getting to Malfoy. He tried to deny it but she cut him off, "I'm not finished yet. The other thing would be the fact that you've actually met your match and don't want to admit it because 1-I'm a girl and 2-I'm a Gryffindor." /p 

p Lyla pondered whether she should add, 'And 3-I'm Harry's twin sister,' but thought better of it. No matter how amusing his reaction would be, she knew she needed to restrain herself. /p 

p She smiled at the speechless Malfoy, satisfied with her work and turned back towards the path to Hogwarts. There wasn't much left to go though but it was also really dark out and they still had to pass by the dementors at the gate. /p 

p Lyla shuddered at the thought while tightly grasping her wand that was attached to her pants. Malfoy was being awfully quiet and that was never a good thing unless Lyla had finally managed to shut him up completely. She didn't think that possible and ruled that theory out as soon as it entered her mind, despite it being a very nice thought. /p 

p She ignored him anyway, he made that quite easy by staying silent except for a slight whimper when passing by the dementors. Lyla didn't comment on it although she really wanted to. It was only when they were near the Great Hall that he decided to speak up. And he spoke up rather loudly too. Lyla wouldn't have been surprised if Trelawney could clearly hear every word of their fight from the North tower. /p 

p "I'm not in denial about liking you, nor that you're a match for me. A filthy Muggle-lover like you will never be a match for a Malfoy. You're below me and disgusting!" he snarled nastily. "Besides," he said smiling cruelly, "I could never have feelings for such an eye-sore." /p 

p "You could never have feelings period, but that's a whole other issue," Lyla muttered to herself not in the slightest way affected by his words. She laughed and said, "I must say Malfoy, I'm impressed. Is that a new record for you?" /p 

p Confused and curious, he played right into her hands, "New record for what?" /p 

p "Well coming up with a come back of course! I think it is, after all it only took the trip up to the castle for you to think of something. And to think that's all you came up with. Hmm..." she trailed off, acting as if she were lost in thought when in reality she was only doing that for a more dramatic effect. /p 

p "I think I may have to take that back," she said looking back at Malfoy. "I'm not impressed." Lyla smirked as she turned away from Malfoy. She was proud of herself for being in control of her response and not letting him get to her. /p 

p Lyla's hand was on the handle of the doors leading to the Great Hall. She took a deep breath readying herself for the reactions of her peers, but mostly her brother. She opened the door a crack before something in her peripheral vision caught her eye. She turned her head in time to catch a glance of what looked like a black creature race around a corner. It looked like it was heading for the changing staircases. /p 

p Lyla wasn't positive it was what she thought it was but she had a bad feeling it was. Sirius Black was in the castle and was heading somewhere. Surprisingly though, she wasn't as worried as she thought she'd be. She knew Harry was safely in the Great Hall drinking pumpkin juice and enjoying the festivities but there was something else. /p 

p This whole Sirius situation had always irked her somehow. She had a feeling there was more to the story than anyone else knew or cared to know and she was curious enough to find out. These feelings of hers, instincts as more accurately described, had never let her down before so she decided to trust them on this and ignore his presence for the time being. /p 

p Lyla opened the door to the Great Hall a little more but stopped as Malfoy shouted at her. "Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you!" /p 

p Lyla scoffed out a laugh, "Excuse me but what conversation were you in? Because in the one that i _actua__lly__ /i _ happened I was doing all the talking and you were just standing there like the pillock you are. So I, in fact, did not walk away from you talking to me. I walked away while you were standing there dumbstruck and speechless." /p 

p She opened the door finally and walked through dragging a disgruntled Malfoy along only to find that there was an audience awaiting them on the other side. "See there you go again! Maybe if you waited for my response before walking off we wouldn't be arguing about this." Malfoy obviously hadn't noticed the rest of the school watching the scene he was making. /p 

p Not wanting to let him win the argument, Lyla ignored everyone else and turned her attention back to him. "Maybe if you wouldn't take so damn long to think of something to say, I wouldn't get bored and decide to find something else worthy of my time. Like finding those bothersome twins and having them undo i _this__ /i _so I can get as far away from you as possible!" Lyla screamed while raising and pointing at their connected hands for emphasis, setting off shocked gasps around the room from the gesture. /p 

p Lyla tensely gazed around the Great Hall and saw the shocked faces of her friends and not to mention Malfoy's as well. Her friends were shocked and confused while Malfoy's were shocked and angry. They automatically assumed this was Lyla's doing of course. /p 

p Dumbledore, at the head table, was watching on in amusement as was Remus. Of course he was enjoying her torment more than anyone. She had pulled numerous amounts of pranks on him before. It was only natural that he'd be enjoying the show; she would be if their positions were switched. /p 

p Back at the Gryffindor table Oliver was gazing at Lyla and Malfoy in shock, confusion and hurt. Lyla couldn't imagine what he must be thinking, but if it was anything like what she was thinking he was thinking then it wasn't good. She vowed that if the twins hurt her chances of being with Oliver she'd hurt their chances of ever reproducing. /p 

p Besides Oliver, one person's face stood out from them all. Harry bypassed shock and confusion and went straight to anger. He looked about ready to murder Malfoy and Lyla figured he did what Malfoy's friends did and assumed the blame to be on his enemy. /p 

p Lyla wanted to laugh at the situation since from an outsider's point of view it probably looked quite comical. She was prevented from doing so however when Harry got to his feet and started stomping his way towards them. Malfoy glanced at Lyla as she cursed loudly to herself, "Crap! Harry please, don't do anything stupid...please, think before you speak!" /p 

p "Malfoy, get away from her!" Harry shouted at him when he was close enough to actually do some damage if it came down to that. /p 

p Malfoy seemed to handle fighting with her brother far better than fighting with her. She figured it was a male thing and shrugged it off. He put on that infamous smirk of his and said, "Jealousy doesn't look good on you Potter. What do you want me to stay away from your girlfriend is that it?" he asked mockingly while pulling Lyla closer to him despite her protest. /p 

p Harry looked about ready to blow his top and Lyla knew he wasn't thinking clearly. "No, I want you to stay away from my sister!" /p 


	12. Chapter 12

- Chapter 12 -

[Little Thunder, Little Lightening

p The Great Hall was so quiet Lyla was sure that everyone could hear her screaming at Harry in her head. She knew it had been an accident but he could've at least thought of the consequences of his actions. How they would affect Lyla, and the danger they would put her in when word got out. /p 

p Taking a deep breath to calm her racing emotions, Lyla slowly arched her neck to get a look at Malfoy. She made a mental note to thank him for unknowingly calming her down more than she ever could. /p 

p He looked like he was going to faint at any moment. He was as pale as any ghost she'd seen around the castle, with the exception of the Bloody Baron. Malfoy lacked the blood spattered garments the Baron wore so there was no comparison there. Besides that he was basically a very comical sight to Lyla, despite the fact that her situation kept going further down-hill. /p 

p Dumbledore now looked a little anxious about the situation, no longer finding the amusement he did in it earlier. Remus was similar in his reactions, well from what Lyla could tell. He had his head in his hands and was shaking it back and forth so she couldn't really tell. Apart from them, nearly everyone else in the Great Hall who didn't already know the truth were shocked and in disbelief. No doubt they knew the story like everyone else. /p 

p Lyla was brought back to the situation by Harry cursing at his mistake. Lyla herself was angry enough for the both of them but found she was able to control it better than she'd thought she would. In all actuality she could really care less. /p 

p She knew how to defend herself and was confident in her abilities, so why should she worry about anyone coming after her. If anything, Harry revealing her secret gave her an excuse to restart her training with Remus again. And besides she was tired of living under an alias. She wanted to be Lyla Potter and have everyone know her as such. /p 

p Malfoy stuttered out, "S-s-sister?" in a small squeaky voice. That being the only sound he'd made since Harry's revelation. /p 

p "Nice going Harry," Lyla said sarcastically while rolling her eyes. It still didn't bother her but she figured she'd give Harry a hard time anyway. /p 

p "How come you didn't tell me?!" shouted Malfoy angrily while tightly grasping Lyla's shoulder and forcing her to face him. /p 

p Lyla raised a questioning, and not to mention disbelieving, eyebrow at him. 'Well it seems he broke out of that catatonic state he was in. And I was so looking forward to him staying that way,' she thought sardonically, before responding to his question. /p 

p While forcefully removing herself from his grasp she said, "Oh I'm sorry Malfoy. I forgot that we were the best of friends and tell each other everything instead of the bitter enemies we really are. You know, the ones who hate each other and wish the other would burn in one of the seven hells!" /p 

p Nearly everyone including him winced to some extent at her words, but Malfoy was still determined to get answers and kept his serious gaze locked on hers till she gave in. She heaved a great sigh and said, "Not that it was any of your business--which a lot of things you seem so keen on knowing are--I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. And neither was Harry but I guess he just forgot about that." /p 

p Lyla shook her head in annoyance as Harry apologized and said 'it was an accident' for what was about the millionth time. "I get it Harry, it was a slip-up. I'm not all that mad anyway, just irritated that I'm still stuck to this git here!" /p 

p Harry glanced back at their connected hands and silently tried to process everything. He still had no clue what had gone on that day. Nor did he have the slightest idea of what could have possibly happened to cause that. He didn't think he wanted to know either. He just wanted Malfoy as far away from Lyla as he could manage. /p 

p As she ignored the two boys around her, Lyla locked eyes with the two culprits, who were stifling their laughs. Though, they would have been more successful if she hadn't looked at them. Their laughter pierced through the silence of the Great Hall like a gun shot causing some of the students and even Sprout and Flitwick to jump in surprise. /p 

p Lyla scowled at the sniggering figures while once again dragging Malfoy with her over to them. She took a deep breath and in a calmly stern voice--that could quite possibly be compared to McGonagall's--said, "I don't find this quite that laughable, so shut up and tell me how to undo this." /p 

p The twins instantly shut up after hearing how calm she was being. They knew she was bound to get them back much worse than their prank, especially after learning exactly who she was stuck to. Needless to say they were a little worried since they knew she was capable of much worse than they'd witnessed from her before. /p 

p Reluctantly they started to speak, "Well there are three ways..." Fred started but Lyla cut him off before he could say anymore. /p 

p They would just be wasting her time by explaining everything when she already knew what they were going to say. "I already know that and what they are. What I don't know is which one you numbskulls chose." /p 

p They looked even more reluctant to fork over the information she wanted which worried Lyla. The worst possible option in her mind would be kissing Malfoy. "Well you see Lyla," said George slowly. /p 

p "Our best-est buddy," added Fred quickly. /p 

p "With the greatest sense of humor, who couldn't," /p 

p "Possibly hold this against us, seeing," /p 

p "As it was quite funny," they went on taking turns finishing the others sentence. She was a bit glad her and Harry didn't do that, it would get annoying...very quickly and not to mention it was quite creepy. /p 

p Lyla pressed her free hand to her temple, feeling that headache come back in full force. "Just tell me!" she said raising her voice over their yammering. She was loosing her patience and all she wanted to do was get detached from Malfoy and go plot her revenge on the twins. /p 

p "You have to tell each other your deepest secret," George blurted out quickly. "And since Malfoy already knows yours all he needs to do is spill his secret and you'll be free." /p 

p "Unless of course she needed to tell him herself, which would make her secret null and void and she'd either have to tell a different one or repeat the one that'd already been revealed," said Fred thoughtfully to his twin. /p 

p Lyla sighed in relief not really caring that she might have to tell Malfoy another secret she had. The twins look up at her oddly and she explained, "I knew it had to be either that or the kiss thing because we've been showing how much we hate each other all day." She laughed lightly, "I was actually worried that you too would be nasty enough to make me kiss whoever I got stuck to." /p 

p They smiled slyly and said, "We're not that cruel." /p 

p Lyla rolled her eyes, not believing them for a minute that they didn't consider that option. She smiled nervously at Oliver and glared at the twins. "Explain to them what happened," she paused after turning to walk away and turned back, her glare intensifying, "Truthfully!" /p 

p Walking away dragging Malfoy behind her yet again, Lyla stopped in the doorway of the Great Hall and shouted back, "Don't think I won't get you two back for this!" Hearing the loud cursing, Lyla smirked knowing they were taking her seriously. She patted the pouch Mr. Zonko had given her earlier and smirked, wondering what wonderful goodies awaited her disposal. /p 

p Once in an empty classroom Lyla and Malfoy stood in silence. Lyla was waiting for Malfoy to start talking so she could see whether or not she'd have to tell her second deepest secret. She didn't really want to reveal anything like what she was going to if she had to, to Malfoy of all people. /p 

p He could use anything she said against her and wouldn't think twice about doing so either. "Do you want me to go first?" Lyla mentally rolled her eyes while thinking, 'Duh, I thought that was obvious.' She thought better on saying that out loud and settled for just nodding. She didn't dare open her mouth for fear of that spilling out. /p 

p "I really don't like the way Snape favors us Slytherins," he said suddenly. /p 

p Lyla was greatly surprised by this and managed to sputter out a slightly coherent, "Wh-huh?" She shook her head to get back the ability to properly form words, "Why?" /p 

p "Because everyone thinks we get high marks just because we're the class favorites, not because we're actually good at the subject." /p 

p Lyla's eyes opened a bit wider, "I never would have expected that to come from you." /p 

p Malfoy shrugged her shock off and said, "Yeah, well...us Slytherins are the best as you do know. Snape might as well let us prove it." /p 

p Lyla rolled her eyes at him and scoffed. Leave it to Malfoy to ruin what would have actually been a shining moment for him. She said nothing as she tried to free her hand from Malfoy's grasp. It didn't work and Lyla growled in frustration. /p 

p Malfoy coughed to get Lyla's attention, "This is the part where you share your secret..." /p 

p "I'm Harry Potter's twin sister," she said hopefully then gave a tug at their hands. Her face fell when Malfoy's went with hers. She whined and pouted angrily as Malfoy encouraged her to go on. /p 

p Lyla bit her lip and looked up at Malfoy, "I really don't want anyone to know this. Especially Hermione, she'd just love to hear it. It would probably bring back her theory on me belonging in Slytherin." /p 

p "What is it? It can't be that bad..." he said while trailing off, thinking of all the lovely possibilities. /p 

p She laughed bitterly, "Maybe not for you, after all it's in your nature to be a jerk." Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Lyla but she took no notice, "But I'm a Gryffindor. I'm supposed to be loyal, brave and all that other crap that defines a Gryffindor from the rest. Now the brave bit I can deal with, but it's just that some of the other Gryffindors really bug me, not just them but others in other houses as well." /p 

p Malfoy laughed a little, "Is that your secret? That you don't like some of the other students?" /p 

p Lyla glared angrily at him and quickly blurted out, "That's not my secret! The fact that I sometimes wish I was in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor so I could justify not liking someone without anyone questioning it because everyone would just expect me to not like anyone that's not in the same house as me is." /p 

p Realizing what she had just said, Lyla quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. The same hand that had previously been connected to Malfoy's. Neither of them had noticed the glowing mess of green and red light glowing from their conjoined hands while Lyla was ranting. Lyla didn't stop to think on it either, as she darted out of the classroom and quickly started on her way up to Gryffindor Tower, leaving a very confused and yet smiling Malfoy behind. /p 

p The worst thing that Lyla unfortunately realized much too late, was that Malfoy had more dirt on her now and she basically had nothing. So who cares about his secret, most of the Slytherins would probably back him up anyways. She on the other hand might get shunned by her fellow house mates--specifically Harry and them--and that was something she didn't want. No matter how much she detested some of them. /p 

p Of course she had the option of denying it. That might work, after all people would be more likely to believe her over him anyway. She resolved to tell people that her secret about being Harry's twin sister had worked to break the spell if Malfoy dared to try anything. /p 

p Not even half-way back to the common room Lyla was forced to turn back and head down to the Great Hall by a swarm of her housemates hurrying back there themselves. The only words she managed to decipher from her frightened classmates were: Sirius Black. She couldn't even understand the paintings on the walls. They were going wild and making a fuss about something bad that so obviously happened. /p 

p Dread immediately swarmed through Lyla. What if someone had gotten hurt because she hadn't told anyone what she'd seen? She needed to find out what happened and she needed to know now. /p 

p Before she could move though, the other houses and Headmaster and Professors had made their way into the Great Hall to join them. Dumbledore explained that they would all be safer staying in there whilst him and the other teachers searched the castle. /p 

p He put the Head Boy and Girl in charge, conjured enough sleeping bags for everyone after sweeping the tables to the walls, bid everyone good night and departed on his search with the rest of the staff. As the doors closed excited chatter filled the Great Hall. Everything was still meshing together, and none of the words were making sense to Lyla. /p 

p She finally spotted Rylie, Harry and his friends over in a corner of the Great Hall. She grabbed a sleeping bag and made her way over to them, dodging around her excited classmates. "What in the bloody hell is going on?" she asked when she reached the group, dropping her sleeping bag in the space between Harry and Rylie before collapsing there herself. It had been a long day and seemed to be effecting the night as well. /p 

p Rylie explained to Lyla what had happened. It seemed that the Fat Lady had gone a-wall after being attacked by Sirius Black. "Serves her right. She was a terrible singer," said Ron laughingly. Lyla smiled as Hermione reprimanded him. She was glad that no one had gotten seriously hurt and there was a plus to the events. It seemed that everyone had temporarily forgotten the events of earlier. No one had asked Lyla or Harry about their relation since they were too preoccupied with worrying over Sirius Black being in the castle. /p 

p Lyla stayed quiet as everyone around her wondered how Sirius managed to get into the castle. As the lights went out the talking lowered to mere whispers. Rylie, Ron and Hermione seemed to listen to Percy's order for them to go to sleep, but Harry and Lyla were still wide awake. /p 

p Sometime close to midnight Harry rolled over so that he was facing Lyla, "Pst...Lyla, you awake?" /p 

p "Yeah, I can't sleep," she whispered back while turning on her side. She propped her head up on her hand and peered through the darkness at her brother. /p 

p "Can I ask you something?" he asked while getting in a similar position as her. /p 

p She shrugged despite the fact that he probably couldn't see her do so and said, "Sure, what is it?" /p 

p "You're close to Professor Lupin so you'll probably know," he said as Lyla silently gulped hoping he didn't figure anything out. "I had tea with him today while everyone else was in Hogsmeade and Snape came in and gave Lupin a potion. Lupin told me that it was to help him get better, but I don't trust Snape. He wants Lupin's job too much that I'd bet he'd do anything to get it. Including--" /p 

p "Poisoning him for the job?" said Lyla finishing his sentence and mentally sighing in relief that he didn't figure the truth out. Lyla briefly thought back to earlier with the twins finishing each others sentences as Harry nodded. "Well I can tell you right now that I seriously doubt Snape is trying to poison Remy. That potion does help with Remus' illness so there's no foul play there, I assure you." /p 

p Even though it was dark in the Great Hall, Lyla could still tell that Harry was a bit skeptical. She didn't blame him; it did seem pretty hard to believe that Snape wouldn't take advantage of having to make a potion for Remus. /p 

p They talked quietly for a few more hours. She explained to him--in more detail than the twins were able to--how she had become attached to Malfoy. After Harry expressed how sorry he felt for her having to spend that much time with Malfoy, he asked how her 'date' went. It took a lot for him to get the question out so Lyla figured he still wasn't all peachy with the whole situation. /p 

p She described the village in detail and it was then that she remembered that Harry didn't go to Hogsmeade. She wondered how long it would take him to ask why she was allowed and he wasn't. Well besides the obvious answer of her having her permission form signed. /p 

p Sirius Black being on the loose, if he were to find out she was still alive, he might go after her as well. Although Lyla still had a weird feeling about thinking that way she wasn't going to argue with Harry until she got the answers she needed. But still, she made sure her excuses were ready in the off chance that Harry might open his eyes and ask all those unwanted questions. /p 

p It was around 3 am the next morning; Harry and Lyla were still quietly talking and Ron and Hermione had woken up some time earlier but only laid there listening. Dumbledore entered the Great Hall not long after and made his way towards Percy who was strolling around nearby them. /p 

p They could clearly hear the conversation but Lyla wasn't really paying attention until Snape showed up. He assured the Headmaster that Black was no where to be found and asked whether he knew how Sirius got in. The Headmaster responded negatively and Snape seemed to get more agitated. /p 

p "You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before—ah--the start of term?" Dumbledore replied that he remembered but denied that anyone in the castle would help Black into it after Snape implied that. /p 

p Lyla bit her tongue knowing exactly who Snape was implying would assist Sirius into the castle. Remus wouldn't do that, he had told her what he knew of Sirius and she was positive that he wouldn't dare. The thought would never even cross his mind. /p 

p Snape left after Dumbledore, looking a bit angry and Lyla glared after him. She knew he didn't like Remus, whether it'd be from past events or solely because of the boggart she didn't know. Though, she didn't rightly care either. Snape needed to get over it, whatever i _it /i _ was or he'd just be making everything harder on himself, especially where Lyla's prank was concerned. /p 

p The weather seemed to be getting worse and worse as the week went on. Along with it though, Lyla's days seemed to be getting brighter. Even entertaining sometimes, but those never lasted long. One of the things that proved to be very amusing for Lyla was the new portrait hanging on the Gryffindor entrance. The Fat Lady had not wanted to go back to her duties. Not till Black was found and she was sure she was safe at least, so Sir Cadogan had taken her place, much to the displeasure of the rest. /p 

p Most of Lyla's fellow Gryffindors thought him to be a complete nutter from the way he acted. He challenged anyone, including Neville--who for some reason was rather frightened by this--to a duel whenever they passed and kept changing the password on them. /p 

p Lyla enjoyed goading him on and guessing his newest password. He even let her choose a few of them to use because he was impressed by her 'brave and noble heart'. /p 

p That wasn't the entire reason why she liked having Sir Cadogan there though. She liked the way he talked. She had a love for languages and dialects so it came as no surprise--to Remus at least--that she spent quite some time, between her stops to the common room, chatting with Sir Cadogan. /p 

p Besides her talks with Sir Cadogan, Lyla had been spending most of her time--that she wasn't in class--in the library once again. She was there for the same purpose of research but for different reasons than last time. This time Lyla was there simply because she had nothing better to do. There was also the fact that she wished to avoid any further inquiries of her relation to Harry, but even those were diminishing quickly. /p 

/p Rylie had been spending more time with either Ron or the twins. The twins were mostly just using her as a live test model for their pranks while Ron, Lyla suspected, had another motive. Lyla still had a hunch Ron's feelings for Rylie ran deeper than just 'friendship' but the opportunity to grill him on these feelings hadn't arose yet. /p 

p As for the twins, they were avoiding Lyla. Her threat to get back at them was still heavy on their minds and hers also. The second Lyla would step into a room they would be sure to clear out. They didn't have to do that too often though, but Lyla still noticed. /p 

p They were on the Quidditch team so they had many practices to occupy their time with and evade Lyla. Fred and George redeemed themselves slightly, not entirely, when they explained everything to Oliver so Lyla wouldn't have to so her and Oliver were ok with each other again. /p 

p Oliver didn't have much time to talk though, because of preparation for their game on Saturday--which the Slytherins copped out of--on account of Malfoy's 'injury'. This information had angered most of the team and Lyla had the pleasant surprise job of comforting and calming Oliver's rampage down, which wasn't easy but she managed. /p 

p As fun as those events were, nothing topped Lyla's Friday morning Defense Against the Dark Arts class: /p 

br 

p It was a very dreary day and didn't seem to want to get any better. The windows in the castle rattled from the force of the winds while freezing rain rammed itself against them making it sound as though someone were taking a hammer to the windows. The halls were drafty and cold but Lyla took no notice of any of those conditions. /p 

p She was nearly ten minutes late for class and knew it would take her at least five more to reach her destination. Even though it was Remus' class, Lyla didn't want anyone thinking that she could get away with more because he was her guardian although she still wasn't quite sure who knew that. Rumors did spread fast around there; it would come as no surprise to find out that everyone knew. /p 

p "Diggory's got a very fast swerve, Harry, so you might want to try looping him--" a familiar Scottish accent shouted ahead of Lyla. She glanced up and saw Oliver with his back to her shouting after Harry, who was quickly dashing away from him. /p 

p Lyla bit her lip and approached him; he still hadn't noticed her yet. "You know, Capt'n. It's not very smart of you, shouting Quidditch tactics down a corridor and all. You never know who could be listening; I'm surprised at your carelessness. What if I was Diggory? I would've heard what you just said and been able used it to my advantage." /p 

p Lyla smiled as panic crossed over Oliver's face. He had turned pale and was quickly looking around for any sign of anyone else. He sighed in relief when he didn't find anyone and Lyla laughed earning a disapproving look from Oliver. /p 

p "I don't see what's so funny Lyla. What if someone had heard? Our chances would be ruined and then our whole season would be over. My--our chance at the cup would be gone." /p 

p Oliver rambled on for a few more minutes before Lyla stepped up to him, and threw her hand over his mouth. She smiled up at the much taller Oliver and said, "Aren't you glad it was just me then?" /p 

p Oliver gulped nervously and removed Lyla's hand from his mouth. He smiled down at her; he was quite upset with the twins after he found out what they had done. They ruined his first date with Lyla and for what? A stupid prank? /p 

p "More than you know Lye." She smiled back up at Oliver and the two of them stood their idly chatting--flirting--with each other. Somewhere in the conversation, the upcoming Quidditch game had been brought up. Lyla was fairly certain it was him who had actually brought it up but didn't say anything about that. /p 

p Lyla was leaning against the wall with her back pressed against it, staring up at Oliver as he spoke. "So Lyla...the Quidditch game this Saturday, can I count on seeing you in the stands, cheering me on?" /p 

p Oliver placed a hand on the wall near Lyla's head and leaned towards her. "Probably not," she replied. It was obviously the wrong answer as Oliver's face had fell and he made to move away from the position he had been in. /p 

p "Most likely it'll still be raining so I doubt you'd see me but I will be there; and rest assure, I'll be cheering you on." Lyla smiled slyly up at Oliver as he realized what she had done. /p 

p "Bloody tease," he reprimanded playfully, laughing along with her. She didn't bother to argue since she knew he spoke the truth. /p 

p Oliver was about to say something else when Lyla squealed something about being late. He smiled down the hallway, watching Lyla race towards her target classroom. He really had it bad and wasn't complaining a bit. /p 

p He knew he liked Lyla, more than he'd liked any girl he'd ever dated. There was just something about her that drew him to her. He didn't know what it was exactly, but he was dying to find out. /p 

p Oliver smiled as his thoughts of Lyla swam through his head while making his way to the Gryffindor common room. He had no class that period so he had no worries about being late for anything. Lyla on the other hand did. /p 

p Lyla raced down the corridor and slid to a stop outside of the DADA classroom. She had just barely managed to not run into a suit of armor and was glad the door was closed or everyone inside would have witnessed her klutzy moment. /p 

p Even though she didn't run into the suit of armor, that didn't stop her from tripping over one of it's outstretched feet. Lyla cursed loudly, more out of irritation than pain. She laughed to herself as she picked herself up off the floor along with her bag. /p 

p She brushed herself off and walked into the classroom prepared to apologize to Remus for being as late as she was when she heard something that she couldn't help but comment on. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all," said a familiar voice that most definitely wasn't her Remy. /p 

p Lyla didn't even comment on Snape being there and he didn't say anything about her being late. Instead he listened on in amusement as Lyla let her mouth run, "We discussing Grangers this class? Huh...I didn't realize they were dark creatures. Ugly little bushy-haired buggers? Yes. Dangerous dark creatures worthy enough of having a lesson taught on them? Not so much." /p 

p The glares of her classmates were split between Lyla and Snape as Ron argued with him. Lyla cringed and made her way to her seat next to a red faced and snickering Rylie. "Said that out loud didn't I?" /p 

p Rylie nodded, not capable of words for she was still chortling quietly at the sight of the upset Hermione trying to hide her face from everyone. "And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed." /p 

p Rylie had a panic moment at those words. She attempted to clamp a hand over Lyla's mouth knowing her friend wouldn't be able to contain herself. She sensed that Lyla wanted to say something but she was too slow and Lyla commented anyway. /p 

p Lyla snorted in laughter, "I hardly find it his fault for criticizing the way you teach a class because quite frankly it sucks." /p 

p Silence had once again filled the room. "I don't know how Lupin runs his class, whether he lets his students run wild, talk out of turn; act in insolence and show up late to class by nearly twenty minutes," Snape said as he pointedly stared at Lyla. /p 

p "But I don't care either Miss i _Potter /i _," he spat out acidly, cutting off any protest she would have made. "Lupin may give you a lot of leeway in this class, but I assure you--that's not how it's going to be while I'm teaching." /p 

p "You call what you do teaching?" Lyla asked in disbelief. /p 

p "What would you call it?" he sneered. /p 

p "Everything but that; I mean, I hate to tell you this but discrimination does not belong in a classroom and that's all you do." /p 

p Snape sighed and in a quiet voice said, "Obviously you have not learned to hold your tongue. Should I issue some more detentions for you, Miss Potter?" /p 

p Lyla smiled sincerely up at Snape from her seat. "Oh come now Snape, you know there's really no point to that." /p 

p "So you'll mind your mouth, apologize, and treat me with the respect I deserve?" he asked suspisciously, ignoring the fact that the insolent little chit had just referred to him as Snape without a Professor proceeding it. /p 

p "Merlin no!" Lyla exclaimed wide eyed. "I said there's no point because detentions or punishments of any kind really have no effect on me. Not that there's no point because I've learned my lesson or anything because the truth is I haven't and most likely will never. So as long as you continue 'teaching' the way you do, I'll keep acting the way i _I /i _ do." /p 

p Lyla could've sworn the whole class could literally hear Snape grounding his teeth in annoyance. "Fifty points from Gryffindor for Miss Potter's impudence and disrespect towards a Professor." /p 

p Rylie was more successful at stopping Lyla from smart mouthing back at Snape and Lyla finally seemed to listen. To Rylie at least; she bit her tongue at every remark Snape made about Remus. Even when those were soon followed by pointed looks at Lyla, as if he was daring her to say something, but she kept her cool. /p 

p However, the assigned essay Snape gave on ways to recognize and kill a werewolf nearly made Lyla lose it again. It was a good thing Harry and Rylie were there to drag her off or Lyla was sure she would have attacked Snape. /p 

p He was throwing all those werewolf hints around and purposely assigned that essay in hopes that someone would figure Remus' secret out. Lyla knew it and was outraged that he would do something like that. She knew he greatly disliked Remy but that wasn't a good enough reason for acting like he was. Nothing was. /p 

p Outside of the DADA classroom Lyla caught herself before she started ranting out loud. It wouldn't do well for Remus if she made a scene. Her friends would be sure to question her motives for her anger towards Snape and suspicions Lyla most definitely did not want would arise. /p 

p A comment Ron had made about Sirius Black had reminded Lyla to talk with Remus. She had to give him a heads up on what Snape had done. But more than that, Lyla still had questions and concerns about Sirius Black's story. /p 

p Had it not been a full moon that night, Lyla would have gone on her search for Remy. She sighed as she got ready for bed later that night. She would just have to wait to talk with her Guardian. Lyla cringed as she gazed out the window up at the dazzling full moon. Somewhere in the castle, Remus was suffering alone through his transformation and no one had the sense in them to realize it. /p 

p Lyla angrily got into bed and scowled as she thought of the students that were in Hogwarts. Most of them thought they had it tough or that their lives were worse than anyone else's. Lyla begged to differ. In her opinion, Remus had it worse than all of them combined. /p 

p She had spoken with him about his whole 'lunar problem' as she called it. It affected his life more than just a few nights out of the month. It followed him everyday of his life. Remus had never let on but they were not the wealthiest of people. They were a lot like the Weasley's in fact, just barely managing to get by. /p 

p His 'problem' restricted him from some of the better paying jobs out there because no one wanted a werewolf working for them. Nobody wanted a werewolf anywhere near them whether it was a full moon or not. In Lyla's eyes it was the Ministries fault for being so narrow-minded, which was the truth. She disliked politics enough as it was but the prejudice they had against someone she loved like a father only served to fuel the fire in her. /p 

p Calming her anger, Lyla fell into a deep dreamless sleep. She was thankful that her dreams had been diminishing in intensity over the past few months. It allowed her to focus her mind on other, more important things. Things that she could change and actually had a say in. /p 

p As peaceful as Lyla had slept that night, it didn't last long for her. She woke up early, by her standards, at about seven o'clock and tried but failed at going back to sleep. She always had that problem unless she was sleeping in class. Once she was up that was it she was up. /p 

p The Quidditch match would be held after breakfast and Lyla groaned as she glanced out the window. It was pouring and didn't look like it would let up anytime soon. Pulling herself from the warmth of her bed Lyla unsteadily made her way to the bathroom, after gathering her clothes and accessories, to get ready for the day. /p 

p She got dressed not really caring about her make-up. It was raining outside, it would get ruined anyway so what'd it matter? She re-braided her hair but put a faux-leather maroon bucket cap on to block some of the rain out. /p 

p From the looks of the conditions outside Lyla guessed it was pretty cold out and decided to dress for warmth. She wore a red and gold sweater with a high turtleneck-like style. The sleeves were longer than her arms but she didn't bother to roll them up. For pants she had on a maroon colored pair of capris with pockets on the legs, knee high black socks and her maroon colored flat suede sneakers. /p 

p After getting dressed Lyla wandered down to the common room, intent on sitting alone in front of the fire till breakfast started. However the common room wasn't as deserted as she'd anticipated. Harry was there sitting on the couch staring into the wildly dancing flames. /p 

p Well not exactly staring more like watching occasionally as he glanced every now and then at Crookshanks, who was still determined to sneak past him and catch Scabbers. Lyla smiled deviously to herself, it was never too early for a prank and Lyla thought it was just the thing to wake her tired brother up. /p 

p She quietly crept up behind him, motioning to Crookshanks to be quiet as his head cocked her way. There was definitely something unusual about that cat, Lyla could've sworn it had actually grinned at her in acknowledgement. Of course that could have been the flames casting shadows around the room, messing with her semi-conscious mind. /p 

p Lyla was directly behind Harry, about to make her move when...Crookshanks scrambled to his stubby little feet and took off towards the boys' staircase once more. Apparently the look Lyla had thought she saw wasn't about something she was going to do, it was about something he was planning on doing. /p 

p Harry wasn't very far behind Crookshanks; he was obviously paying more attention to the cat than his own surroundings for he still had yet to notice Lyla standing by the couch. Deciding to not say anything and just wait for him to notice her, Lyla waited patiently as Harry scolded Crookshanks. /p 

p Harry had the cat in his arms as he turned around and spotted his sister. He shouted in surprise and accidentally threw the cat in the air. Lyla's mouth dropped, she was undecided as to whether she should laugh or not so settled for an openmouthed shock sort of look. /p 

p Crookshanks of course, being a feline, landed safely on his feet and took off up the girls' stairs. Seeing that Hermione's cat appeared to be alright Lyla looked back at Harry who was glaring at his sister, knowing she hadn't said anything on purpose. "You know you really should work on being more alert," she said laughingly while toppling over onto the couch so she was sitting upside down, her legs where her head should be. /p 

p She patted the empty space on the couch by her and Harry sat by her. "So dear brother-o-mine, how are you on this," she glances at the window once more, choosing her words, sarcastically, carefully, "wondrous day?" /p 

p Harry was silent for a bit and Lyla listened to the rain pounding on the windows as she waited. He didn't answer her though, "You ok Harry?" she asked concerned for her brother. She knew he had a lot on his mind what with Gryffindor's first Quidditch game of the season that day and all. /p 

p He nodded and Lyla knew better than to break the silence anymore than she had already. Harry needed to think about things and Lyla was content to let him be. They sat in silence for a long while before Lyla decided to inform her brother of the time. They left the common room and walked down to the Great Hall together, neither one saying a word, aside from Harry telling Sir Cadogan to shut up and Lyla chuckling at her brother's sour mood. /p 

p Lyla sat next to Harry and Rylie with the rest of the Quidditch team, not eating anything. The teams' nerves were starting to affect her as well, she could almost feel how worried Oliver was and he was on the other side of the table from her by the twins who were still being sure to keep their distance. /p 

p After a quiet breakfast the team left to get ready and Lyla and Rylie started on their way down to the Quidditch field. Lyla had thought the outside conditions had looked bad from inside but once outside she had to say that they weren't even close to her observation. It was much worse than she had earlier thought. /p 

p Her and Rylie could barely walk in a straight line thanks to the force of the wind. Lyla wondered how they actually expected the players to fly without getting knocked off their brooms. She was right in telling Oliver that he'd most likely not see her at the game. She could barely see two feet in front of her because the rain was coming down in sheets, so she doubted he'd be able to unless he flew right up to her. This was definitely not just a 'bit of rain' as Alicia had earlier put. It was more like someone was dumping several large swimming pools on top of their heads. /p 

p "Well isn't this lovely?" Lyla asked sarcastically. She was not going to enjoy this and that was a shame. Since it was her first match ever it would leave a bad impression on her. /p 

p Rylie glanced at her friend. They were thoroughly soaked by then and they'd only been outside a few minutes. She smiled thinking of something she'd seen earlier that summer, she knew Lyla needed something to laugh about and she was just the person to make it happen. /p 

p "Hey Lye, you ever seen the movie The Rundown?" she asked loudly over the howling winds. Lyla looked over at her friend and smiled as if knowing exactly what she was getting at. /p 

p Without anymore words being exchanged, the two of them rose to their feet and did the little dance that went along with what they said, "Little bit of thunder. Little lightening. Thunder! Lightening! Thunder! Lightening!" They laughed together as Ron and Hermione hesitantly approached them but stopped when they heard and saw both thunder and lightening. /p 

p They quickly sat down, looking around guiltily and hoped both stopped before the game started. They didn't, but at least the lightening wasn't striking down anywhere close to them. Ron and Hermione didn't comment on what the two were doing but Lyla had a feeling Hermione wanted to but wisely chose not to. /p 

p The game started not long after this amusing display and Lyla wanted it to end even sooner. She was cold, soaked and just having a ruddy time. The skies hadn't cleared up so she still had no visual aid to the commentary coming from Lee Jordan. That was her only form of entertainment and kept her from getting i _that /i _ bored. Well that and trying to figure out why Quidditch was so popular. /p 

p She could never understand why people were so into the sport in the first place. If you asked her it was rather pointless. Just watching players zoom back and forth on broomsticks carrying a red soccer sized ball. Basically playing a mixture of hot potato and monkey in the middle in the air from the opposing team while trying to get the darn thing into one of three hoops while being pelted by other balls whose sole purpose was to knock them out of the air or give them a concussion, which ever came first. /p 

p Only for that all to be completely beside the point since the whole game basically depended on who catches the golden ping pong with wings. That was a lot of pressure for one person, especially if that one person was her brother. /p 

p Thunder was still filling the air but no lightening came with it for a while after the game had started. When the first flash finally broke through the sky a timeout was called. Lyla groaned not wanting the match to go on any longer than it had to. She sat there grumbling to herself as Hermione took off down the stands. /p 

p Wondering where she was going but shrugging it off, Lyla shivered down deeper into her cloak even though it didn't help much. She glanced at Rylie who was doing the same thing. She would have asked if she thought Oliver would be upset if she left early but didn't get the chance. The game had started again and the Gryffindor team seemed more energized according to Lee. "Wonder how he can tell?" Lyla muttered to herself while trying to get a glimpse of anything. /p 

p Lightening struck again and Lyla gasped to herself. She thought she saw...but no he wouldn't come to a game. He'd have to be barking mad to do that. Lyla made an excuse to Rylie before running down the stands. She was sure she had seen him. He was right there on the top of the stands further down from the one she was on. /p 

p She made it to the bottom of the stands she thought she saw him on when another bolt of lightening hit making her stop. She quickly glanced up at the top, but there was nothing there. No enormous black dog, no scraggly man, nothing! Nothing but a few empty rows of seats. /p 

p Declaring herself completely mental Lyla turned to go back up to her seat when something knocked her over. She sat up, covered in mud and glared at the retreating figure of the one and only Sirius Black. She scowled knowing that he was going to get a piece of her mind when she found him. /p 

p Getting to her feet, Lyla was determined to catch up to him. She wanted her answers and saw this as the perfect opportunity, even though it might not have been the smartest. No one was around to see her because they were all at the game i _not_ /i seeing that. She was stopped however, before she could even move. /p 

p There was no sound. No cheering or screaming of fans. No deafening rolls of thunder, nothing. Something was definitely wrong. Lyla's first thought was that someone else besides her had spotted Sirius but she ruled that one out quickly. It was still impossible to see without the added help the lightening brought. /p 

p No something else had happened or was happening. And Lyla knew exactly what it was when she felt the familiar freezing sensation overcome her senses. A scream of a woman that had been becoming less familiar to Lyla filled her ears. Lyla bit back a scream and angrily turned towards the field. /p 

p Her assumption had been right. Dementors were at the game. There were at least a hundred of them and they were all standing underneath Harry. She didn't know how she knew it was him, she just felt it. She later figured it to be one of those twin things. /p 

p "Harry!" Lyla screamed while running towards the center of the field, her wand outstretched and pointed at the hovering fiends. She conjured up her Patronus but was too worried about Harry to notice what shape it took again. She reached him as Dumbledore was storming down towards her, the dementors retreating, some from Lyla's Patronus most from Dumbledore's wrath. /p 

p Lyla had never seen him look so angry before; she almost felt sorry for the dementors. Almost being the operative word since they were the reason her brother was laying unconscious having fallen some fifty feet or so. Lyla started shaking as she realized no one could have survived a fall like that. /p 

p Dumbledore put a consolingly firm hand on her shoulder moving her away from Harry. He conjured a stretcher and started up towards the Hospital wing in the castle, Lyla following along holding Harry's hand. She refused to leave him no matter what and Dumbledore understood this and didn't ask her to. He even told Madam Pomfrey that she wasn't to leave his side. And after taking a look at the petrified girl before her she didn't argue. /p 

p Lyla sat by Harry's side for quite a while, holding his hand not daring to let go for fear of never getting him back. Madam Pomfrey reassured her that he was fine but that only eased her worries a little. She had come so close to loosing him right there that it just hit her then how important he was to her, and how easy it would've been to lose him just like that. /p 

p Sometime during her mind's whirling thoughts, Rylie, Harry's friends and the rest of the Quidditch team minus Wood came in. Rylie sat by Lyla comforting her while the others talked over what'd happened. They too had thought Harry was dead and hearing that didn't help Lyla's already racing mind. /p 

p She now had another reason to scold Sirius. He had been the reason the dementors were there. Lyla was sure of it, and because of him her brother had nearly been killed. Lyla was so lost in the thoughts that filled her racing mind that she jumped out of her seat as Fred shouted Harry's name. /p 

p She glanced towards where Harry was laying and it was then that she noticed her brother was awake. She leaped from her chair and pulled a hurting Harry into a bone crushing hug. She started rambling about how she thought he was dead and how scared she was that she'd lost him as he hugged her back, with less force than she had. /p 

p She managed to calm herself down after many, 'I'm fine's', from Harry. She still didn't believe him but decided to let it go for the time being. He had just been through a serious accident that could have killed him after all; she might as well not nag him about anything. /p 

p Lyla sat back and listened to Harry and the team's conversation in disbelief. Harry was concerned about whether they had won the match or not more than anything else. "Boys!" Lyla grumbled to herself only loud enough for Rylie and Hermione to hear and smile at. They too agreed with her but thought it wiser for her to make the argument. They would just stand back and silently side with her. /p 

p Lyla glanced around finally comprehending where she was and who was there with them. She wondered where Oliver was just as Harry voiced her unasked question. "Still in the showers. We think he's trying to drown himself," answered Fred. /p 

p Lyla scowled at the new information. He was more upset about losing the game than almost loosing a teammate. "He should be glad Harry's still alive more than moaning over losing the match. It's just a bloody game...Ugh! I'll never understand that boy..." Lyla went on muttering to herself as the twins discussed point margins for still being in the running for the cup. /p 

p Rylie and Lyla left soon after, Lyla knew Harry would be alright where he was and he seemed more interested in being with his friends anyway. Besides she was still fuming over everything that'd happened that day and over Oliver and his lack of priorities. She seriously doubted anyone let alone Harry in his condition wanted to be around her. And she wouldn't blame them either, she was in a really unpleasant mood and everyone around her could tell. /p 


	13. Chapter 13

- Chapter 13 -

[Introducing, Fredricka and Georgina Weasley!

p Lyla was still quite angry at Oliver but he seemed to be too upset at having lost the first match of the season to take any notice. Harry's mind also seemed to be clouded with thoughts of the same. Lyla had stopped visiting him in the hospital wing because of this. /p 

p He was simply too infuriating to talk to and couldn't get passed that one incident. Lyla had given up her fruitless attempts at cheering him up and spent most of her weekend avoiding Oliver and searching in vain for Sirius. She was basically putting everything else on hold for the time being including her prank on Snape, which didn't seem to be getting anywhere anyway. She was planning on working on it during the Christmas holiday; she would have more than enough time then. /p 

br 

p Monday Potions class wasn't very interesting. Lyla had actually behaved herself which of course made Snape more suspicious of her than if she were to have actually done something. Though she had to admit, it was most difficult to stay on her best behavior, especially considering Draco would not abstain from mocking Harry at every turn. /p 

p Luckily though, Lyla didn't have to do anything to i _teach him a lesson /i _. Ron did it for her; throwing a crocodile heart at him hitting him square in the face. Despite Snape taking fifty points from Gryffindor because of the stunt, Lyla had been put into a better mood than she'd been in since the Quidditch game. /p 

p Sure she was still quite miffed at Oliver's lack of concern for Harry's well being. And frustrated for she still couldn't manage to track down Sirius no matter how hard she looked. But aside from those two things, life was good. Remus was finally back teaching his classes again and that made everything all peachy in Lyla's mind. /p 

p After a fun-filled lunch with Lyla throwing watch-your-back looks at the twins, she made her way to her Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Lyla was smiling with glee at finally getting to see her guardian. She always missed him during his monthly problems and was always extra happy to see him when he came back. /p 

p This time however he looked far worse than he had when he left. Which was to be expected considering his transformations and all but the sight of him struck Lyla more than ever before. He looked sickly pale, more tired and drawn ragged than earlier that week. /p 

p Lyla's face fell as her eyes landed on him. Despite the smile he put on for everyone else, he couldn't fool Lyla. She could see how tired he was. She smiled a weak smile at Remus as she passed him. /p 

p Determination had set in with her and she hardly paid any attention in class. She wanted to help Remus anyway she could. That would mean starting her training back up and more research time in the library. She was so close to accomplishing one of her goals she could almost taste it. /p 

p She knew she couldn't ask Remus for help because he'd be the first to become suspicious of her motives. He always was and always had just reasons to be. Therefore Lyla resolved to ask the only other person she knew that could help her. Someone who was an animagus herself: Professor McGonagall. /p 

p Lyla couldn't find a good time over the next two weeks to approach McGonagall about the subject so she spent her time fine tuning everything she would say and reminding herself of what i _not /i _ to say. Remus had not liked the idea of restarting Lyla's training but agreed nevertheless to start it up again after the winter holidays. /p 

p She hadn't spoken to Oliver or Harry since her brother was in the hospital wing but she didn't have to, to tell they were much happier than before. She could tell their spirits were lifted by Ravenclaw's win over Hufflepuff on the last Saturday of November. /p 

p Lyla didn't bother going to the game. She still rather detested the sport and vowed only to go for her brother's sake. Instead she spent her time once again sitting in a comfortable armchair near the back of the library researching techniques to becoming an animagus. /p 

p Winter was well on its way and with it meant the end of term along with two glorious weeks free of schoolwork and everyone that would pester Lyla. Malfoy was leaving which was wonderful, now Lyla wouldn't have to worry about him stalking her--which she was angry to say he was still making a habit of. Rylie having to go home was the only downfall. /p 

p But sadly Lyla still had to wait at least another two weeks till the end of term actually came. Fortunately though there was a Hogsmeade trip coming up to look forward to. It was scheduled for the day before the end of term but Lyla figured it would at least keep her mind off how close she was from a vacation. /p 

p The Friday before Hogsmeade weekend Lyla was sitting in the Gryffindor common room next to the fire, talking with Rylie about how horrible it was that her parents demanded she return home for the holidays. /p 

p Rylie wasn't sure why she was required to go back home but was positive it wasn't going to turn out well for her. And from what Lyla had heard about her parents, she was quick to agree with Rylie. /p 

p There was a tap on Lyla's shoulder and she turned in her armchair to see the one, the only, Gryffindor's own, the Quidditch captain himself: Oliver Wood. He smiled at Lyla not noticing her rolling eye glance at Rylie. She wanted to be rude and just ignore him but a pointed look from Rylie got her to follow Oliver out of the common room. /p 

p It was far past curfew but he didn't seem to notice and Lyla didn't rightly give a damn. Curfew was just another regulation set for her to break. The two walked down a deserted corridor, talking about what the other had been doing. /p 

p She was correct in her assumption of him regaining his energy for the game. She knew it hadn't really left him--only slightly diminished in intensity. Oliver didn't seem to realize that Lyla was far beyond not interested in anything he may have had to say, especially if it had anything to do with Quidditch which most things that came from his mouth did. /p 

p However, she would listen if he were to apologize for the way he'd acted, but that didn't seem likely. He didn't even let on that anything was wrong and Lyla suspected the thought never even crossed his one tracked mind. /p 

p Lyla sighed while shaking her head. She didn't want to change Oliver because she liked him just the way he was, even if he was a Quidditch fanatic. Deciding to let everything go--unless he did it again--Lyla strained a smile and continued her conversation with Oliver. They were still 'discussing' Quidditch. /p 

p Some time during their one-sided conversation the subject of the upcoming Hogsmeade trip the next day was brought up. Lyla knew she didn't bring it up for she was too busy pretending to listen and be interested in what Oliver was talking about to get a word in anyway. She figured the whole reason he wanted to talk to her was because of the trip and actually paid attention to him this time. /p 

p "I know its a little short notice and I'd understand if you already had plans and everything. But I was kind of hoping…maybe…we'd go together. I kind of owe you since the twins ruined our last outing," he said smiling awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. /p 

p The mention of the twins and Hogsmeade flicked on a switch in Lyla's mind. She had completely forgotten that she was going to get the twins back at the next Hogsmeade trip. Panicking slightly, Lyla smiled at Oliver and quickly agreed to go with him. Stating that she had to go get something ready for tomorrow Lyla ran off back towards the common room leaving a confused but content Oliver behind. /p 

p Rylie didn't ask why Lyla was freaking out as her friend entered their dorm. She had a tendency to spaz out quite frequently and Rylie learned it was easier to just nod, smile and pretend to be helpful. Lyla let out an, "Ah ha!" of triumph as she pulled an old satchel from her trunk. /p 

p Muttering to herself repeatedly, "My precious," Lyla patted the pouch lovingly. She smiled up at Rylie from her spot on the floor. "The twins have no idea who they messed with." That was all she said and all she needed to say. Rylie knew exactly what she was talking about, and although she didn't know exactly what her friend was planning, she knew from past experiences that it was bound to be great. /p 

p Lyla awoke the next morning in a panic. She had once again overslept. This was a bad thing because the twins would most likely be expecting an attack so instead of loitering around campus they would more than likely opt to leave early. Cursing to herself, Lyla hopped around on one leg, attempting to get her skirt on, but only managed to trip over a pair of her own shoes and tumble down to the floor. /p 

p When she finally managed to dress herself without attaining more bruises Lyla grabbed her 'bag' and ran off to the Great Hall as fast as her legs could carry her. She had on black and tan comfortable shoes for running so she didn't have much trouble in the speed and balance department. /p 

p A sudden thought occurred to her though; she was wearing a skirt and running towards the one place that had witnessed many of her more painful stunts that year. It would definitely not be a good thing for her if she were to run into the doors once more. /p 

p Regrettably the thought came too late for just as she was contemplating slowing down she was nearing the closed doors at record speed and didn't have nearly enough time to stop or slow down. "Oh bollucks, this is going to hurt," Lyla whined as she crashed into the doors which flew open this time causing her to fall into the Great Hall. /p 

p Lyla sat up, shaking her head to get her sight back. She'd taken one too many knocks to the head over the years but that one had definitely took the cake. Her vision was blurred and her head slightly throbbing, but neither of the symptoms of her possibly mild concussion fazed her. /p 

p She didn't cry or whine about the pain. Instead she just sat there, on the floor of the Great Hall with her classmates and teachers watching and started cracking up. She didn't care if she looked mentally unstable or if anyone thought she was, it was just too comical not to laugh. /p 

p Another pair of laughs joined in with hers and Lyla looked up to find the Weasley twins sprawled on the ground in front of her as well. Apparently they were on their way out as she was barreling in. Oliver was standing over them, shaking his head in amusement at all three. /p 

p Lyla temporarily ignored him and settled her stare on the twins. They had stopped laughing by now. "Well hello boys," Lyla said, grinning her evil I'm-going-to-get-you smile at the two of them. They gulped audibly before scrambling to their feet and sprinting out of the Great Hall to no where in particular, just as long as that no where was as far away from the evil genius that was out for revenge on them. /p 

p "You boys can run all you like. It won't do you much good," Lyla called after them as Oliver walked over to where she was still sitting. /p 

p He extended his hand to her and helped her to her feet, "Way to make an entrance, Lyla." /p 

p She smiled back and stated, "That's the i _only /i _ way to make an entrance." Oliver told Lyla that he needed to go get his things and Lyla told him to take his time. She needed to 'take care' of some things before they left anyways. /p 

p Rylie was no where in the Great Hall so Lyla figured she had left early with Ron and Hermione. She and Ron were becoming better friends with each other and although Hermione didn't like that very much she tolerated it. In her opinion, Rylie was much better than Lyla any day. /p 

p Harry was also M.I.A. Lyla knew her brother was still upset about his lack of visitation rights to Hogsmeade and she had talked with the twins--before they pranked her--about finding a way to enable him to go. They of course had assured her they'd do something about it and had showed her the most wonderful invention she'd ever seen. The Marauder's Map, that would certainly do the trick and Lyla was all for helping Harry. /p 

p Looking around more Lyla realized that she didn't really have anywhere to sit for breakfast. She hadn't been at all interested in making friends with any of her housemates other than the one's she'd already met. They didn't seem the type to appreciate her and her antics, so she only tolerated most of them because they were Gryffindors and didn't bother to get to know any of them. /p 

p Shrugging her shoulders Lyla turned to leave the Great Hall. She wasn't that hungry anyway. She needed to fulfill her prank on the Weasley twins before they left for Hogsmeade. However, something caught her eye, making her remember that she didn't know where the twins were exactly. /p 

p Lee Jordan was sitting alone at the Gryffindor table. Him being so close to the Weasley's would of course make him the obvious choice of knowing where they were and what they were doing. Him also being afraid of what Lyla could possibly do to him helped her in i _persuading /i _ him to cooperate. /p 

p Lee Jordan walked down a deserted corridor where he was to meet up with the twins. He had promised them that he would tell them when Lyla had left with Oliver. Since they were giving away their map to Harry, they wouldn't be able to keep track and continue avoiding Lyla without assistance. /p 

p Hence why they were currently crushed together in a broom cupboard to shirk Lyla once again. Lee sighed while glancing over his shoulder. He didn't want to betray his friends and walk them right into a trap, but he didn't want to fall victim of one of Lyla's pranks either. Hoping the twins would understand and forgive him later; Lee nodded to Lyla--who was crouching behind a suit of armor--before opening the door. /p 

p "Fred? George? Are you in here?" Lee asked in a whisper, squinting into the shadows of the cupboard. "Lyla's gone, you can come out now." /p 

p Lyla heard movement as the twins scrambled out of the cupboard. She laughed to herself at how relaxed they were at hearing she was supposedly no longer in the castle. They were surely in for a big surprise. /p 

p The twins laughed and thanked their 'friend' for helping them out. As they said, "They couldn't have done it without him." Lyla couldn't agree more for she couldn't have pulled her prank off without him either. /p 

p The twins walked down the corridor with Lee; they were headed straight for Lyla's trap. Lee made sure to stand behind the twins so that he wouldn't be caught in the middle as well. Fred and George walked on not noticing their friend had slowed his pace, and not suspecting any foul play either. /p 

p Counting down in her head, Lyla took out her wand to activate the trap at the precise moment. They were almost there just a few more feet and they would've passed the suit of armor she was hiding by. Lyla made a mental note to tell the twins to work on their vigilance, for even Malfoy--the densest person there ever was in her opinion--could've sensed that something was wrong. /p 

p But Lyla wasn't complaining in the slightest. Especially not as she activated her prank and sat back to watch her masterpiece unfold. The twins shouted in surprise as they were lifted into the air. They felt like they were being pulled in different directions, then a tingling sensation came over them before it all stopped. /p 

p They glanced around the corridor. They were still in Hogwarts. Lee was still behind them. Lyla was standing beside a suit of armor smirking up at them in triumph. The twins did a double take at that last realization. They cursed under their breaths knowing they'd just walked into her prank. They of course did not want to take a peak at what she'd done to them but knew they'd have to eventually. /p 

/p Glaring for a second at their traitorous friend--although they really couldn't blame him--Fred and George looked each other over. At first glance they were shocked and angry but those emotions soon dissipated and their amusement came back in full force. /p 

p Lyla had somehow managed to switch their clothes from what they'd been wearing to baby doll dresses. One was a powder blue the other a baby pink. Their hair had been turned blonde and since it was so long she'd put it up in pig tails with ribbons to match their dresses to hold their curls up. She hadn't just switched their clothes though...no that would've been too easy for them to fix. Instead Lyla changed their genders completely. /p 

p "My, my, my...Fredricka, Georgina, don't you both look lovely?" said Lyla while holding back her laughs. /p 

p The twins calmed themselves down and looked at Lyla in admiration. Only she could manage to pull off something like that on them of all people and for that she earned their reverence. Deciding it best to just play along, the twins posed and acted girly to the best of their abilities, which was, oddly enough, actually fairly easy for them. /p 

p Lyla laughed at their enthusiasm and motioned for them to follow her. They definitely won't be laughing later but she wasn't going to give away the best part of her prank till she was at Zonko's. Lee had run off somewhere, not wanting to be around the twins in case they decided to get him back for helping Lyla as she led them down to the entrance hall where Oliver was waiting for her. /p 

p Lyla kept her eyes on Oliver's expression as she walked down the stairs, the twins following just behind her waving like royalty, and flipping their hair back and giggling uncontrollably at the sight of the Quidditch hunk himself. Oliver tried to control himself, but found it rather difficult with the act the twins were putting on. /p 

p This didn't faze the twins, if anything it goaded them on even more. Lyla walked with Oliver while the twins walked behind them--warming charms on them so that they didn't freeze--trying as often as possible to get Oliver's attention. They'd bat their eyes at him and giggle frenziedly, at times nearly shrieking. /p 

p Just before they'd entered Hogsmeade Lyla couldn't control herself and asked, "We don't really act like that...do we?" She was kind of apprehensive about hearing their answer for she was sure that some of the girls of Hogwarts did and the twins' perception of them was spot on. She was proud to say that she however was not one of them, as she led everyone towards Zonko's joke shop. /p 

p The twins didn't know that was their destination and usually would've jumped at the chance--but not while in the predicament they were currently forced into. They struggled to get away from Lyla but every time they even thought about escaping their necks would tighten where they just noticed black chokers were. /p 

p "No way..." Fred said as he pulled on his choker only to pull his hand away quickly for it had started to choke him again. /p 

p "You put collars on us?!" George asked in both amazement and distress. /p 

p "Correction! I put chokers on you, there's a difference," Lyla answered while still walking on towards their destination with Oliver by her side. /p 

p "And that's what exactly?" Fred asked angrily. The twins were alright with playing drag queen and all but not when Lyla had full control over what they did. Now they had no say in when they were permitted to hide from people--specifically Mr. Zonko. He'd never let them live it down if he saw them. /p 

p "Choker's are like necklaces and are more fashionable than collars which have name tags and sometimes leash attachments," she paused in thought, stopping as she did this before turning to face the twins again. /p 

p "I was actually going to put you two on a leash but I thought it'd look too kinky. But if you want I can always add nametags." Lyla reached for her wand but the twins sensing that it'd be a better idea to not have her pointing her wand at them discouraged her from doing so...or more like begged her not to do any further damage to them and their pride. /p 

p "Very well then, no more complaining." Lyla opened the door to Zonko's joke shop but turned to the twins first before entering. "I expect you two to be on your best ladylike behavior while in the presence of the owner of this establishment." The twins stared at each other asking the silent question of whether or not she was serious. /p 

p Lyla being quite fluent in twin nodded her head, "I'm quite serious and those chokers are too. You want to breathe. Do as I say." She smiled cheerily while dragging a chuckling Oliver into the shop. /p 

p She could hear the twins grumbling behind her and smiled at the knowledge that they were no longer enjoying themselves. She wasn't feeling the least bit guilty either. They deserved what they got and more than that. If anything though, at least her prank would teach them a lesson on not messing with a master of the trade. /p 

p Lyla looked around the shop as she walked by; she still needed to buy Christmas presents for everyone--including the twins even though she was in the process of embarrassing them. She decided to ask Mr. Zonko. They were his best customers after all. He'd be sure to know what they'd want. /p 

p "Lyla! I was hoping you'd stop by today. It's so close to Christmas and--" Mr. Zonko stopped his approach. He'd just gotten his first glimpse of the twins and was frozen to the spot. Lyla pulled Oliver out of the way so Mr. Zonko would have a better view. He stood still for a few more seconds, Lyla thought he was in shock but knew he was just deciding whether or not to laugh. /p 

p But of course he chose the obvious and did what the rest of his customers were already doing. Lyla steadied the hysterically laughing old man while the twins glared at him. They were trying as hard as they could to make their dresses longer but didn't seem to be getting very far. /p 

p Lyla laughed along with Mr. Zonko and everyone else while helping the old man sit down. She didn't want him to hurt himself, after all he was the one who gave her those chokers and without those she wouldn't have been able to get the twins to cooperate. /p 

p "Mr. Zonko, may I introduce, Fredricka and Georgina Weasley!" Lyla said over the sniggering crowd that had gathered. /p 

p "My dear, you are the only one I have ever met who has been able to make me laugh more than those troublesome twins. I applaud you," said Mr. Zonko, no longer laughing but still smiling brightly over at the twins. /p 

p "Ha ha ha! Yes, this is all very funny indeed," said Fredricka sarcastically. /p 

p "Now that you've got you're laugh in, when do we get out of these?" asked Georgina looking as annoyed as her sister. /p 

p Lyla, with her back to the twins, winked at Mr. Zonko--as if to say play along. She faced the twins again, looking a bit nervous. She bit her lip and looked up at the now worried twins. They knew when they should be nervous and at the sight of the look Lyla was giving them they knew she only had bad news to tell them. /p 

p "Well you see girls; the spell I had to use...well it was kind of..." Lyla said while slinking towards Oliver so she could hide behind him. Once she had a human shield, Lyla felt more secure about revealing the best part of her prank to the unfortunate twins. /p 

p "Permanent," she said quietly, but they had heard her. The shop had gone quiet trying to listen in on their conversation so nothing was hindering their hearing. Lyla peered over Oliver's shoulder and smiled sweetly at her pale friends. /p 

p The twins sputtered something out inarticulately but Lyla got the point. They were at a loss for words and too angry to speak properly which was understandable. Lyla laughed slightly to lighten the mood, "Look on the bright side ladies, at least you can change out of those dresses when you get back to the castle...that parts not permanent. And I'm sure there are a lot of guys back at Hogwarts that would love to get to know the two of you better." /p 

p Fred and George looked at each other before pushing Oliver out of their way. They dropped to their knees and hugged Lyla's legs, begging for her to find a way to turn them back. Lyla held back a laugh as she pretended to think about it. /p 

p She smiled down at the twins who were staring up at her pleadingly. "There might be a way to reverse it," she sighed out slowly. The twins stayed silent, waiting expectantly for the information as they rose to their feet. "But first you have to promise me something," she said smirking at them. They looked at each other silently agreeing that what ever it was wasn't worse then being stuck like they were. /p 

p At their nod of agreement Lyla went on, leaning in and whispering, "Promise to never prank me again." Lyla could see both Fred and George wanted to argue that she was being unfair but thought better on it and agreed before either could fail to do so. /p 

p "Lovely! Now I'll see you two back at Hogwarts. Have fun," she said with a smile while turning back to talk with Mr. Zonko who was still laughing, more at the twins expressions than anything else. /p 

p "Wait!" Fred and George shouted, stopping Lyla's movements. /p 

p She turned towards them again, raising an eyebrow in question. "Aren't you going to fix us?" asked George hopefully, his brother matching his look. /p 

p Lyla snorted out, "No," and was about to ignore them again when they both moved till they were on either side of her. /p 

p "And why not?" asked Fred threateningly. /p 

p Lyla smiled up at them, as they were considerably taller than her, and said as sweetly as she could, "Why, because you wouldn't have learned your lesson on not pranking me if I let you off that easily. I'll reverse it after dinner tonight, but for now I'm going to enjoy this Hogsmeade trip with Oliver without you two screwing everything up." /p 

p "What're we supposed to do till then?" asked George incredulously. /p 

p "The same, enjoy all that Hogsmeade has to offer," with one last wink at the twins Lyla dragged Oliver away from them and over to where Mr. Zonko was waiting for her. She smiled gleefully as she heard the twins angry mumbles grow further and further away as her and Oliver exited the store ready to spend a nice day in Hogsmeade together. /p 


	14. Chapter 14

- Chapter 14 -

[Innocent?

p The rest of their day in Hogsmeade proved to be most enjoyable. Lyla was reminded of all the reasons she had started to like Oliver in the first place. He was sweet, easy to talk to and even a bit funny at times. He wasn't as fun to be around as the twins were though. They for sure, without a moments hesitation, would've had a snowball fight with her right in the middle of Hogsmeade, but Oliver got upset with her 'childish antics' as he put it, when she attempted to start one. /p 

p Despite that minor set back of a total of five minutes not talking to Oliver, Lyla spent the majority of the day shopping for Christmas presents with him. The only time they actually split up was at the end of their trip but there was a very good reason for that. Harry, at the time, needed her more than Oliver did and when it came to family, no one would come between Lyla and hers. /p 

p Oliver led Lyla into the Three Broomsticks, they'd been walking around the village all day and were beyond exhausted and not to mention thirsty and cold. They needed to warm up and butterbeer was a sure fire way to accomplish that. Spotting Ron, Hermione and Rylie, Lyla pointed out to Oliver where she'd be as he went to get their drinks and she pushed her way towards her friend. /p 

p It was rather closely situated near a table where Professor McGonagall, Flitwick, and Hagrid were talking with another witch, Lyla recognized to be Madam Rosmerta and a wizard Lyla didn't recognize. Lyla greeted everyone including Harry who was hiding under the table, as she sat down in an empty chair next to Rylie. /p 

p "Pst Rye," Lyla said quietly to get her attention. "Who's that man the Professors are talking to?" /p 

p Rylie didn't glance over at the table, making Lyla think she probably had already noticed them there, and said, "That's Cornelius Fudge the Minister of Magic." Lyla nodded and wondered what he would be doing in the Three Broomsticks of all places, talking with a bar maid and three of their Hogwarts professors. /p 

p Lyla stared off after her professors and Fudge who were making there way through the throng of students, away from them and back into the swirling blizzard that was now rampaging around outside. Harry was back in his seat again. It may have been her imagination but Ron, Rylie and Hermione seemed to be acting a little strange. Lyla was about to ask why everyone was acting so nervous when Harry suddenly leapt from his seat and sprinted towards the door knocking over Oliver, who was struggling to get to their table. /p 

p Even more confused at this point, Lyla stopped Ron and Hermione from running after him. She was his sister, if anyone was going to comfort him it would be her. Hermione tried to argue knowing that Lyla had no idea what they'd just overheard but Lyla wasn't going to hear it. She told all of them, including Oliver to just head back to Hogwarts while she finds Harry. /p 

p Oliver wasn't happy with Lyla ditching him for her brother but wisely chose to keep quiet. He knew she wouldn't have appreciated him getting on her case again and he really didn't want to have another argument. So he just stood there with his fellow Gryffindors, soaked in the freshly spilt butterbeer, staring after Lyla and wondering if they'd ever get to have a Hogsmeade trip to themselves. /p 

p Lyla ran through the crowded streets of Hogsmeade frantically searching for her distressed brother. She didn't know what'd gotten him so upset and didn't have time to get the full details from everyone. The only thing she knew was that he had overheard their teachers, Fudge and Rosmerta talking about something. /p 

p Looking around in exasperation, Lyla sighed at not being able to find her brother. She was about to turn back when she heard something down in a clearing by some rocks just outside of the village. There was no one there and yet Lyla could still clearly hear someone faintly crying. /p 

p She cautiously walked down the snowy slope. She saw footprints leading towards a boulder and slowly made her way to it. Lyla remembered Harry had to have had his Invisibility Cloak with him and sighed in relief that she had found him. /p 

p She kneeled in front of where she thought he was and reached up towards him. Feeling the silky fabric of his cloak she tugged at it, pulling the invisible material off of him. She was right, it was him and he didn't look too happy to see her for some reason. /p 

p "Harry...what happened?" Lyla asked quietly. /p 

p Even more tears were building up in his eyes as he whispered, "He was there friend." /p 

p Lyla knitted her eyebrows as she wondered what he was talking about. "Who was whose friend, Harry?" /p 

p His bright green eyes glared into her dark ones. "Sirius Black, he was our parents' friends...and he betrayed them." Comprehension flooded Lyla's mind and she moved to hug her brother but he moved away. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked through gritted teeth. /p 

p It was amazing how quickly he could switch from crying to being angry with her, especially when she'd done nothing wrong. "I didn't know Harry, I swear. I would've told you if I knew," Lyla said almost pleadingly. She wanted him to believe her because truthfully she hadn't known. /p 

p "Right, you didn't know? What did you know then? Did you know that he's the reason mum and dad were killed? That he betrayed them to their deaths then killed one of their friends?! That he was my Godfather!?! Did you know that?!" Harry shouted getting to his feet and advancing towards his sister who was stepping away from him with every step he took towards her. /p 

p Lyla was shocked at hearing the godfather bit but didn't let it show, she looked down in shame, cringing as his voice rose with each question. She looked up into his eyes pleading with him to understand. "I swear Harry, I thought you knew. All Remus told me was that Black had killed Pettigrew after he told Voldemort where mom and dad were hiding. You have to believe me, if I knew you didn't know I would've told you." /p 

p Harry said nothing more to Lyla; he just turned his back, not wanting to look at his sister. He felt like she'd betrayed him by not telling him everything. Nothing she said was getting through to him; he still felt hurt and betrayed by his own sister and wanted nothing more at that moment but to get away from her and find Sirius Black so he could kill him. /p 

p Lyla sighed when Harry turned his back on her. She knew he wasn't listening to anything she had to say and that was getting her angry. She never liked being ignored. It was one of the only things that could get under her skin to the point where she'd do anything to make it stop. /p 

p But for the moment she knew she couldn't do anything about it. Harry wouldn't talk to her no matter how much she pleaded with him to do so. She would have made him listen to her but knew better than to get angry at Harry while he was already not thinking properly. /p 

p "I hope he finds me," Harry said breaking the silence that had formed between them. He had such an intense determination about him as he turned around to face Lyla again. "Because when he does, I'm going to be ready!" Harry was glaring at the ground as he said this but he soon raised his head to look Lyla in the eyes. /p 

p "When he does, I'm gonna kill him!" Lyla felt her heart jump into her throat then fall to the bottom of her stomach as Harry said this. She understood why he was so angry at Sirius; she herself had been angry and eager to meet the man when Remus had first told her of him. But she still wasn't certain whether or not it was valid to hate him so much when she wasn't even positive he'd done what he was accused of. /p 

p "No," Lyla said speaking up and gaining Harry's attention. "You're not, Harry." Harry glared at his sister about to argue but she didn't want to hear him yell at her again. "Mum and Dad wouldn't have wanted you to become a killer Harry. They died for us, so that we could live our lives. I'm pretty sure chasing after an escaped convict or 'letting' him find you isn't something they had in mind." /p 

p Harry was once again silent. He knew Lyla had a point but was still far too angry to admit anything. Instead he settled for running everything he'd heard in the Three Broomsticks over in his head while Lyla led him back towards Hogsmeade village. /p 

p Lyla knew how Harry had gotten into Hogsmeade because the twins had told her about the passage when they showed her the map. That knowledge still didn't make the journey back any easier, especially with Harry angry at her. He was caught up in his own thoughts and ignoring her most of the trip, only acknowledging her presence when they had reached the end of the tunnel and he helped her out of it, glaring at her the entire time. /p 

p He really didn't have any reason to be angry with her in the first place. She honestly thought he knew and the subject was never brought up or high on her conversation list. But she also never talked about anything Sirius Black related because of that feeling she always got whenever anyone referred to the man as a ruthless murdering lunatic, who was in league with Voldemort and the very reason her parents were dead. /p 

p She couldn't help but feel there was more to the story. More than anyone dared to figure out or want to know. There had to be, some things just didn't add up with the story and Lyla wanted to know why. /p 

p It also added to her curiosity when her dreams of the night Voldemort killed her parents were replaced with flashes of Sirius with her parents. She couldn't hear everything they were saying but it seemed like Sirius was trying to convince them of something. The dreams would also sometimes include the scene where Sirius supposedly killed all those muggles and Peter Pettigrew. /p 

p Though, once again things just didn't add up and Lyla couldn't help but have her suspicions. Especially when she'd witnessed the very thing Sirius was accused of. He didn't look like he was trying to flee and was stopped by Pettigrew. He looked like he was the one doing the chasing. /p 

p Lyla pushed her thoughts of that particular dream to the back of her mind. She wouldn't leave it there for long because she really needed to speak with Remus about it and sort everything out because even though she wasn't having dreams of her parents anymore, Sirius and Pettigrew were now becoming an every night thing and the only way she knew to make it stop was to figure out why she thought Sirius to be innocent. /p 

p Lyla stopped in her place as she reached the Great Hall doors. Harry didn't spare her a second glance; he just pushed past her and continued on his way. Not even bothering to care why his sister looked so spooked. /p 

p Her mind was racing...innocent...that was the first time she'd actually admitted to herself that she thought him innocent. Convicted of a crime he did not commit; losing nearly 12 years of his life being subjected to relieving his worst memories over and over again in that horrible place. /p 

p True everyone's stories of that fateful night were inconsistent, but she hardly thought herself ever capable of proclaiming the man who betrayed her parents' innocent...And yet it felt right, it made sense to Lyla. Why was she so adamant about finding Sirius and learning the truth if she didn't think he was wrongfully accused? /p 

p He was a killer, a maniac, one of Lord Voldemort's most loyal supporters. He could kill her and not think anything of it...it'd be her own fault. He wouldn't have asked for her to find him. It wasn't like he was stalking her or anything. /p 

p Lyla scoffed as her thoughts turned to the way everyone else thought. She never was one to conform her thoughts and ideals to the ways of society. What they believed she had always thought differently. So why was she now doubting everything? /p 

p Glancing into the Great Hall at her brother Lyla could only find one explanation. Harry...he hurt her deeply by accusing her of lying to him...of keeping things from him. She would never do that and yet he was sitting at the Gryffindor table right now lost in his thoughts which were most likely filled with how much he hated both Sirius and Lyla at the moment. /p 

p She laughed to herself, not a laugh filled with joy but disbelief. Her and Harry weren't even that close. He still clung to his friends every second of every day, only acknowledging her every once in a while if she did something to gain everyone's attention. /p 

p Why should she care if he was angry with her? She shouldn't. Furthermore she wouldn't throw away everything she believed in that year just because Harry had now jumped on the bandwagon and believed an innocent man guilty. /p 

p There was that word again...innocent. It didn't faze Lyla this time when she thought it. It felt more right and fit well the more she used it. If Sirius really was a ruthless killer, he would have killed her that day in Knockturn Alley...but he didn't. In fact, thinking back on the situation, he looked spooked and slightly hopeful when he saw her which made sense. She did look a lot like her mother as she'd been told before. /p 

p Adding to Lyla's argument, she thought back to her last Hogsmeade fiasco with Draco. She had seen him in the castle which was probably when he attacked the Fat Lady. But the thing that troubled Lyla was, if he really was after Harry, why didn't he just march into the Great Hall and get him. /p 

p He 'killed' Pettigrew with muggles watching on. Why should he care if the whole school would witness Harry's end. Obvious reason: Dumbledore was there. Surely he wouldn't be scared of any one else, but Voldemort himself only feared one man and that was her Headmaster. /p 

p But even that didn't make the least bit of sense in Lyla's mind. To her it seemed like he was trying to get into Gryffindor tower because he was looking for something. Not someone because they were all in the Great Hall at the time. /p 

p Lyla grabbed her head in pain. Too many thoughts were bouncing all around and it was beginning to get a bit painful to sort them out. The Great Hall was definitely not looking appealing to her at the moment. Students were being their usual loud and obnoxious selves and Lyla knew her head couldn't take much more. She would probably shout at some unexpected First Year for they were the most prone to make noise. /p 

p Turning on her heel Lyla walked up the marble staircase, planning on resting in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Thankfully it was still deserted because everyone was still at dinner. She sighed, trying to relax in the few minutes she had in silence before dinner let out. /p 

p Her headache was just beginning to retreat when Lyla opened her eyes at the sound of excited voices and the thundering of feet nearing the Fat Lady's--now Sir Cadagon's--portrait. Glaring at the closed portrait Lyla decided it would probably be best to just head up to bed. She'd had a long day and it was starting to take its toll on her. /p 

p Unfortunately though she wasn't quick enough to make it even a foot away from the couch, for just as she had gotten to her feet the portrait had swung open, permitting her housemates to storm loudly through the now buzzing common room. /p 

p Lyla glared even more at her excited housemates. It was their last night before they went home for the Yule holidays so it was understandable that they'd be excited to see their family and friends. For Lyla though it wasn't such a big deal, all her friends and family were at Hogwarts, even though one was currently not on speaking terms with her. /p 

p Lyla stopped her thoughts just as Harry walked through the portrait, not even sparing her a glance, passing her on his way up the boys' staircase. Her break from school would turn out to be most interesting if Harry didn't start speaking to her again. She resigned to let him have his space and if he didn't come around on his own then she'd make him talk to her. /p 

p Lyla made her way to her dormitory. However she didn't get very far. Not even halfway up the stairs she felt her foot slip. At first she cursed herself for being such a klutz before she realized that for once in her life it wasn't her fault. The stairs had just retracted into a smooth slide which she was descending down back into the common room where two very disgruntled temporarily blonde haired twins were glaring at her. /p 

p Lyla groaned, wishing she knew when she would get a break from people being mad at her. She would love to go one day without pissing someone off. But as she gazed up at the twins she held back a smirk and knew it was well worth them being angry at her. /p 

p "Where were you at dinner, missy?" asked Fred glaring down at her, becoming more angered as she continued to ignored them while investigating the slide wondering how on earth she was to get to her dorm with the stairs out of commission. /p 

p She had no clue they could change like that in the first place and was about to ask the twins how they managed it but was cut off. The twins obviously sensing her curiosity decided to answer her so she would change them back without putting it off longer. They were still getting laughed at and it was starting to seriously bother them. /p 

p "If a guy tries to go up the girls' stairs they change into a slide, now answer the question," ordered George. /p 

p Lyla raised an eyebrow at her fellow twins; she didn't like being bossed around. Never stood for it when the so-called bullies of her old school tried to push her around and she wasn't about to tolerate it from her friends of all people although she might have deserved it at the moment. /p 

p But she was too tired and worn out from the day which had started out nice enough only to turn around and spiral out of control. Lyla massaged her right temple in a failed attempt to rid herself of the migraine that was only worsening with the twins' intervention of her sleeping time. /p 

p "Look guys, I've had a bloody rotten day so far and it only seems to want to get worse. My head feels like someone's trying to crack it open with a sledgehammer, can I just change you both back and you let me go to sleep?" Lyla looked up at them almost pleadingly and to her surprise and gratitude they agreed. /p 

p She changed them back without another word and left back up the newly reformed staircase to sleep off her headache, leaving the twins to stare after her in confusion. From what Oliver told them they figured she had a great time with him in Hogsmeade. Apparently though, both had interpreted their 'date' differently. /p 

p Fred and George looked at each other and shrugged deciding it was better that they let their friends sort out their relationship without their interference. They turned and headed to their dorm for the night, glaring at any of their housemates that dared to laugh at them. They were after all still dressed as girls. /p 

p Walking into their dorm room, the devious minded twins stopped. Identical mischievous grins spread across their faces. Lee Jordan, their accomplice in a majority of their pranks was asleep in his bed. Ignorant to what his friends were scheming. /p 

p They went to sleep that night eagerly waiting for the next morning where they would finally get even with their traitorous friend. Lyla had gotten revenge on them for their prank why shouldn't they get even with Lee? They couldn't prank Lyla; she made them swear--entirely against their will--never to prank her again. But Lee...Lee was an open target, and an oh-so-deserving one at that. /p 


	15. Chapter 15

- Chapter 15 -

[So Much Drama So Little Time

p "How could you...to James and Lily?! You betrayed them!" a high pitched, enraged voice rang through the night. A youthful, short and pudgy person not yet a man but half way between adolescence and adulthood stood on a semi deserted muggle street across from another man who was much taller than the other. /p 

p The pair was glaring at one another, ignoring the crowd of curious muggles who had left the safety of their homes to ascertain what all the commotion was about. The taller man raised his wand at the plumper boy but didn't appear to have said anything as a bright light filled the darkness of the night. /p 

p It lasted for mere seconds but the effects it had on numerous people's lives would carry on for nearly two decades. Dozens of bodies of innocent muggle bystanders were scattered around on the dirty ground, now riddled with ash and pieces of pavement that had been blown up in the explosion the spell had brought about. /p 

p The short boyish man was no longer anywhere that could be seen but the tall man had not appeared to have moved an inch. He stared at the empty space before him; an insane gleam could clearly be seen shining brightly in his eyes before his hysterical laughter pierced through the deadly silence. /p 

p All was still as he laughed at the unexpected turn of events. He was so beyond reason by this point that he barely noticed the tiny movements stirring by a nearby sewer. It was a rat but not just any rat. It was a rat he'd recognize anywhere no matter what state of mind he was in. Catching sight of the fleeing vermin only seemed to increase his insanity level and the intense hatred in his laughter. /p 

p The once clear scene, blurred until light shone through the opened curtains of the third year Gryffindor girls' dormitory, effectively waking Lyla from her dream. She shook her head to rid herself of the drowsy feeling of having been woken up entirely too early. Further more she was trying to clear her mind of the hysterical laughter still ringing in her ears. /p 

p She was used to the dream of course, it seemed to have taken over haunting her mind in place of her other 'dream'. But this one had been different. This had been the first time she had heard anything that Peter or Sirius said and also the first time she even noticed the rat over by the sewers. She didn't know what significance the rat had to the events of that night but it had to have meant something. She had a feeling it did but couldn't find an answer to any of the multiple questions floating around in her mind. /p 

p "I guess it's time Remy and I have that talk," she sighed tiredly, not wanting to talk with him. Since the topic of Sirius was a fairly touchy subject for him, they're talk would most likely end up in a dispute and she didn't want that, especially not with Christmas on its way. /p 

p It wasn't that she was upset with him or anything...besides the fact that he hadn't told her of Black's pseudo-relation to her brother. Ok, scratch that...she was upset, far past upset with Remus for not telling her this, or better yet not telling Harry. Black was his Godfather and supposedly trying to kill him, Harry deserved to know everything. /p 

p Groaning with the realization that her vacation would be far from relaxing, Lyla got up and got herself ready for the day. She glanced around the room after finishing her daily morning ritual of nearly falling asleep and killing herself in the shower, and noticed it was completely empty. Hermione was off somewhere most likely with Ron and Harry; Brown and Patil's trunks were not by their beds anymore and neither was Rylie's. /p 

p "Oh bollocks!" Lyla swore, running out the door hoping to make it out of Gryffindor tower and downstairs before anyone actually left. She couldn't let her best friend leave for a few weeks of vacationing hell without saying goodbye first. /p 

p Skidding to a halt mere inches before hitting the Great Hall doors, Lyla sighed in relief; thankful that she didn't run into the very solid doors again. Her head was still slightly bothering her and, considering this, a blow to it like that would most likely hurt a great deal. /p 

p Making her way to the Gryffindor table, she noted that Hermione and Ron were sitting at their usual spot enjoying their breakfast, but Harry was no where to be seen. She felt a bit peeved that he wouldn't come out of his room just to avoid her--assuming that was his reason. He was being absolutely childish. Giving her the silent treatment for something she didn't even do...purposely that is. /p 

p Lyla rubbed her temple once more in pain. She honestly hoped her headache cleared up sometime soon for she really didn't want to spend her Christmas holidays with a migraine everyday just because her brother was being juvenile. /p 

p Lyla sat down next to Rylie and decided not to worry about everything but instead enjoy the rest of the time she had with her friend. "You know it wasn't very nice leaving without telling me you were going, making me panic, thinking you'd left without saying goodbye and all," Lyla said to her friend, trailing off near the end. /p 

p Rylie chuckled and replied. "I was hoping you'd run into the doors again. You know as kind of a farewell." /p 

p Lyla's jaw dropped in surprise. "You did that on purpose just so I'd run into the doors!?" she asked in mock outrage. Rylie nodded trying to stifle her giggles but failing terribly. Soon causing a chain reaction with Lyla, "Well I'm so sorry to have disappointed you," she said still laughing a bit. /p 

p "But anyway, about your Christmas present...I'll be sending everyone's out on Christmas Eve so there's less of a temptation to open them early. Word of caution though, I put a nifty little charm on them just as a precaution so don't open it till it's officially Christmas alright?" /p 

p Rylie laughed and asked, "I take it you're not going to warn the twins, are you?" /p 

p Lyla smiled innocently, but Rylie could see right through it. She already knew her friend would only warn her and possibly Oliver but to warn the twins would be a complete waste of time. They'd try to open them anyways, just to see what types of safety measures she'd used. /p 

p The two talked for the rest of breakfast, Oliver had come down to join them a few minutes after Lyla's present warnings and she repeated her caution to him. He looked a bit nervous but smiled at her, making a mental note to heed her warning. /p 

p Not too long after that, the twins walked into the Great Hall demanding silence. Lyla raised an eyebrow at them, having a feeling that they were up to something undoubtedly no good. She was right and glad no teachers were present in the Great Hall yet for Lee surely would have been in trouble from all the curse words he was throwing around at Lyla's favorite twins--and not to mention for indecent exposure. /p 

p It appeared that Lyla had been a very bad influence on them for they had somehow managed to pull off a version of her prank on them. With the exception that Lee happened to keep his gender intact. Fred and George had him dressed up as a 'naughty' Santa complete with red velvet miniskirt and spaghetti strapped belly top with white fluff surrounding the bottom of the skirt and top of the top. The outfit was complete with a red and white Santa hat and thigh high black spandex heeled boots. /p 

p Even though Lyla felt slightly guilty and responsible for Lee's embarrassing makeover, she couldn't help but laugh along with everyone else as the twins introduced Leanne to the room. She resigned to apologize later for she surely wouldn't be able to sound sincere while he was still in the Santa costume. A countless number of guys came up to 'Leanne' and sat on his lap to give their Christmas wish-list to him, each time resulting in a red faced Lee, twins, and Lyla--Lee from embarrassment and Lyla and the boys from laughing. /p 

p Apart from those amusing displays, breakfast was relatively eventless, and Lyla found her mind, much to her displeasure, wandering back to all the thoughts that'd been bugging her. She didn't notice Oliver trying to start up a conversation with her and was slightly peeved with herself for ignoring Rylie who was most likely going to have a crappier vacation than her. /p 

p Over the few months the two girls had been friends they learned a lot about each other, but there were still a few colossal secrets that were being kept from each. Lyla's secrets were obvious since she was keeping everything about Remus, and Sirius to herself but Rylie's on the other hand was a bit more puzzling. /p 

p She had only told Lyla about how her family ignored and treated her like she was nobody to them but she didn't explain why they did or go into any detail about it at all. It came as a bit of a shock to Lyla when she learned of Rylie's parent's request for her to come home for the winter holidays. It didn't make sense to her. Why would they want her home if they shunned her so? /p 

p Lyla worried for her friend even more as she hugged her goodbye. She had a bad feeling that her parent's intentions weren't good and felt completely helpless since she couldn't do anything about it. Lyla sadly waved goodbye as Rylie, Oliver and the twins rode away in one of the many black horseless carriages. She stood there staring until their carriage was nothing more than a speck of black in the distant whirling blizzard of snow. /p 

p There was nothing Lyla could do to change Rylie's home life--no matter how much she wished she could--and she knew this. Though no matter how much she told herself this, she still couldn't seem to quell those anxious feelings of dread that something bad was going to happen soon. /p 

p Sighing angrily at her inability to help her friend, Lyla slowly trudged her way up the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room. Halfway there she stopped and turned around to have a chat with Remus, remembering that she desperately needed answers, so she could at least understand things a bit more than she did and have one less thing to worry about. The sooner she and Remus had that talk, the better. /p 

p Though it soon became apparent Remus preferred otherwise. It seemed that he didn't want to talk about anything with Lyla for he was avoiding her at all costs, which could only mean one of two things. Either he knew something Lyla didn't and wanted to prevent her from discovering it, or the more logical of the options. He somehow knew what'd happened at Hogsmeade and didn't want to feel Lyla's wrath, knowing she would be more than a little ticked by the events of the previous day. /p 

p She spent a good majority of the day trying to track him down but the results of her wild goose chase proved fruitless leaving her more irritated than she'd been the day before. Lyla made her way back to the Gryffindor common room hoping to relax but leaving in an even more bad-tempered mood. /p 

p Harry and his friends were the only other Gryffindors besides herself to stay for the Christmas hols. When she reached Gryffindor Tower she found them all in the common room sitting by the fire in what was quite an odd scene. Books were spread out all around them, leaving little to no space for her to walk. /p 

p That wasn't what was so strange though because she was used to Hermione taking up most of the common room with her homework or 'a bit of light reading'--as she put it. However she wasn't used to Harry and Ron doing the same. Now she didn't know what they were reading but still the fact that those two were reading at all during vacation was awfully startling. /p 

p Lyla shook the bewildered look from her face and smiled at Ron and Hermione, who'd looked up when she entered. She moved to make her way over to them, intent upon fixing things with her stubborn brother. She was stopped however--well more like she stopped herself--before she'd even made it three awkward steps towards them. /p 

p Harry had finally looked up at her but didn't force a smile, like Hermione had, or waved energetically like Ron--who was probably thankful for the interruption. Instead he gave her a rather mean look, as if he was disgusted with her. /p 

p Lyla was hurt but more so angered with her brother's resentment towards her. She still maintained that she'd done absolutely nothing wrong. He had no right to be angry with her and she planned to make that perfectly clear to him before the end of their vacation. Glaring right back at Harry Lyla huffed angrily, turning on her heel and storming back out of the common room towards the library, leaving a very confused Ron and Hermione to question Harry. /p 

br 

p The next few days were quite similar to the first. Lyla would still have those prophetic-like dreams of Sirius 'killing' Pettigrew in the mornings. Remus kept out of sight, dodging Lyla in the corridors when he did actually emerge from his room. Lyla spent most of her time in the library getting quite a lot of work done. /p 

p All of her school work was finished during the first two days because she had nothing better to do while both her brother and Remus were purposefully being antisocial. Every time she crossed paths with Harry he would glare or scowl at her which really got on her nerves. /p 

p By the third day she had just about had enough of his immaturity. She had hoped that he would get over it if she gave him some space. Maybe even see that he was being irrational blaming Lyla for something she didn't even do, but that wasn't the case. He was still shirking her and his anger had not seemed to dissipate in the slightest, which only caused Lyla's anger level to increase to the point where she could barely control the urge to smack some sense into him. /p 

p Luckily for Harry though, Lyla chose a more verbal and less physical method of expressing her anger. Thankfully when she confronted him in the common room, his friends weren't around. She knew Harry had told them why he was angry with her and that they didn't really agree with him but chose wisely to keep out of it. /p 

p Harry was sitting on the floor by the fire, once again pouring over books--researching Hippogriff trials to help Hagrid as Hermione had so kindly informed her. Somehow sensing it was her, his eyes hardened and he scowled at the page he was no longer reading but did not once glance up. /p 

p Lyla bit her lip to calm and control herself somewhat. She sighed as she sat down on the plush crimson sofa situated directly across from her still scowling brother. Staring at him for a few silent moments in contemplation, she wondered exactly what was going through his mind to make him that chagrined at her. There had to be something else bothering him, there was just no justification in his reasons that she knew of for she had already gave him her explanation. /p 

p A few minutes passed by in silence. Neither of the two siblings made a move to speak. Harry still tried his best to ignore Lyla. The only acknowledgement he made was to glare at the words in his book as if they were her. /p 

p As each second ticked by it became more evident that Harry was going to continue being stubborn and refuse to look at her. A puff of air overflowing with agitation escaped from Lyla's lips as she opened her mouth to speak. "So this is how it's going to be, huh? You're just going to ignore me forever?" /p 

p When Harry made no move to reply, she rose from the couch. Taking a few steps till she was hovering over him, she went on, "Fine, I get it. You're not going to talk to me--" Quickly kneeling down on the ground in front of him, she leaned forward till her face was mere inches from his. She reached a hand out and forcefully turned his face towards hers and hissed, "But you i _are /i _ going to listen." /p 

p Harry heatedly slapped her hand from him and without any other outside force influencing his movements, locked his glare with his sister's. She in turn rolled her eyes with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders while getting back on her feet, "I don't really care actually, if you don't speak. In fact, I'd rather much prefer it if no sound come from your mouth until I'm done and you've heard everything I have to say." /p 

p He seemed to contemplate her words and she could see his inner defensives start to give way until he relented. He nodded and that was all it took to cause every thought Lyla had been harboring since the last Hogsmeade trip to come rushing out of her mouth like a verbal stampede. /p 

p "I understand that you're upset and you have all the reasons to be, I mean I'm angry too! But you! You don't have any reason whatsoever to be angry with me. If anything we should both be pissed at Remus. He's the one who knew about Sirius and everything and yet kept it from the both of us." /p 

p Somewhere during her ranting, Lyla had begun to pace the length of the couch while Harry sat there watching and listening. His glare seemed to have softened but did not quite disappear altogether as he witnessed how much the events of the past few days had affected his sister. /p 

p Lyla however, didn't seem to notice this and just carried on with her rant. "Honestly Harry, he didn't tell me anything about Sirius being your godfather. He only told me that he 'betrayed' our parents and 'killed' Pettigrew. That's it...that's all I was told..." she trailed off slightly before quietly going on, muttering softly to herself so that Harry wouldn't be able to hear her, "And I'm not even sure if that's entirely accurate!" /p 

p Her last declaration definitely wouldn't have gone over well with Harry. He would never understand or care to if he were to hear her theories of what happened on the fateful night of their parents' murder. So it was a very good thing that he didn't hear what she'd said. /p 

p Lyla laughed a mirthless laugh while grabbing her head. Her headache was coming back full blast but she had to ignore it. She needed to finish saying everything she wanted to before she lost the opportunity to do so. She laughed once more, "And I have absolutely no way of finding anything out because would you look at that! Remus! The man with all the answers seems to be avoiding me as if I were the bloody plague, which is a step up from what you've been doing, even though it's still not much better!" /p 

p She took a deep breath before rounding on Harry once again, "You don't run the opposite way at the very sight of me. No, you just sit on your arse, giving me death glares and the silent treatment like some ruddy presumptuous juvenile little prat...and I for one am sick of it!" Lyla's pacing had by now stopped, and she faced her brother so he could clearly see the fury burning in her eyes. /p 

p Harry flinched from the look alone; her words only increased his guilty feelings. Although he did question why he felt guilty at all when he was supposed to be mad at her. Sure she claimed she didn't know anything about Sirius being his godfather and all, but how could she not. She and Remus were so close; he had to have mentioned it sometime. /p 

p Lyla was so wound up by this time that she appeared to be beyond words to express her frustration. This was a good thing for Harry because otherwise he wouldn't have been able to get a word in and he had much to say to his sister. Harry rose to his feet not liking getting yelled at while having to look up at who was yelling at him. It made him feel like a child getting a scolding which coincidentally enough was how Lyla intended him to feel for his actions deserved nothing more in her opinion. /p 

p "You're calling me immature?! Who's the one who's always running around pulling pranks on people, not me! With the way you act around here all the time how am I supposed to take you seriously? How am I supposed to trust you? You've given me no reason to--" /p 

p "I've given you no reason not to!" Lyla screamed back at her brother, not believing the words he was saying. /p 

p Harry just seemed to ignore her outburst and went on as if she'd said nothing at all. "You've lived with Remus your whole life, there's just no way you couldn't have not known about Sirius. He must've let something slip!" He yelled at her, now in her face and not showing any signs of backing down from her, but Lyla wasn't going to back down either. /p 

p "What part of 'Remus didn't tell me anything' didn't you get?" Lyla snarled out angrily. Her brother seriously needed to think before he spoke, especially when she was as irritated as she was. Bringing her arms up, she pushed her brother away from her till he landed back down on the floor. Like him, she didn't like to be looked down on while in an argument. /p 

p "You ever consider that the fact that you feel like you can't trust me is because you don't know me?" she asked quietly staring down at him with hurt clearly shining in her eyes. "Ever since I got here and you learned the truth of our relation you've been distant from me. Going off with your friends and doing your own thing, you haven't made an effort to get to i _know me /i _ so you could eventually learn to trust me as a friend and sibling." Lyla's voice rose with each word and the pain in each syllable was ringing out clearly for the world to feel. /p 

p She was starting to feel the hurtful emotions she'd been pushing away since the beginning of the school year. She knew it wasn't a good thing to let things bottle themselves up because occurrences like this would only be all that much more painful when she did finally let those feelings out. Tears stung her eyes, marginally blurring her vision as she gazed down at her brother. She laughed while whipping a stray tear away, "You were always too preoccupied with your own thing, your own friends which you obviously don't consider me a part of." /p 

p Silence filled the room as Lyla glared at the ground hating herself for crying in front of her brother. She never liked crying at all so having someone witness her moment of weakness was even worse. /p 

p Seemingly indifferent to Lyla's tears, Harry stared unmoved up at his sister, "I don't mean to be nasty or anything but...me not attempting to get to know you and 'ignoring' you--as you so implied--has absolutely nothing to do with this fight." /p 

p Lyla seemed to snap at his words. Tears of hurt were no longer an issue because her anger was beating her tear ducts by far in the battle of emotions. "It has everything to do with it!" She growled back at him. "If we were more like brother and sister instead of strangers, fights and situations like these wouldn't come up as often!" /p 

p Not waiting for a reply--knowing she couldn't handle another word from him and resist the urge to cause him physical pain--Lyla stormed out of Gryffindor Tower towards the library, leaving Harry to think about all that had been said. He knew he'd hurt her and was regretting it, certain that there was no way she'd talk to him now. /p 

p But he wasn't going to let that stop him. She was the only living relative he had and vice versa. He had to fix things like she'd tried, but first he decided to let Lyla calm down. He really didn't want a black eye or anything which she would be compelled to do in her furious state. /p 

p He sat there in the Gryffindor common room contemplating everything his sister had said or rather screamed at him. He didn't purposely ignore her; he was just so used to it being him, Ron and Hermione that he didn't notice he was doing it. That wasn't an excuse though and he knew that wouldn't go over well with his sister if he tried to make any excuses for his actions. /p 

p No, the best thing he could do was apologize...and he planned to. So long as she was willing to listen and didn't have her wand at hand because that would prove disastrous for him for he knew his sister was more adept in dueling even though she'd had no proper training. /p 

br 

p While Harry was left to plan the best and least harmful way of speaking with his sister, Lyla was trying to calm her anger. The results proved ineffective however as she found herself standing in the opened doorway of her guardians classroom. His back was to her and he appeared to not have noticed her presence. /p 

p Lyla knew she shouldn't talk with Remus while her mind was hurt and beyond angry with everything, but she didn't want to have to track him down later either. That thought was all it took to win the battle raging in her head on whether she should just walk away or not. /p 

p She quietly crept up behind her unsuspecting professor and glanced over his shoulder at what he was so focused on. In his hand was an old black and white Wizarding photo of a bunch of people who Lyla didn't recognize. She scanned over the faces of the unknown witches and wizards until her gaze landed on a few familiar faces. /p 

p There in the middle of the tattered image, smiling and holding each other were her parents. Everyone was right, her and Harry were spitting images of the happy couple. Lyla smiled a bit as she saw how happy and in love they were, she could feel herself relax as she stared at them. /p 

p However that feeling of ease didn't last for as long as she would have liked for her eyes soon shifted towards the three people next to her parents. A much younger and far less tired looking Remus was standing next to her mother, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head at his friends' antics. On the other side of her parents were two all-too familiar faces. Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, the two men who had not left Lyla's thoughts for the past two or three weeks, were standing next to her father. /p 

p Black was smiling at her parents and occasionally smirking at whoever had taken the picture while Pettigrew had a sort of peculiar look on his face. He looked somewhat frightened, like he was hiding something from everyone there and was paranoid that someone had somehow figured whatever it was out. /p 

p Not once did Pettigrew look directly towards the camera and Lyla found that odd. However she didn't find it nearly as strange as the look of contempt on his face as he glanced at her father. Lyla thought Pettigrew was a shifty character before but his demeanor in the photograph only served to further increase her suspicions of him. /p 

p Lyla could feel herself getting worked up again and decided to inform Remus of her presence before she became more incensed. She lightly tapped him on his shoulder to gain his attention, making him jump up from his sitting position and face Lyla. Now able to get a good look at him, she noted that his eyes were blood shot and glassy giving him the appearance that he'd been crying. /p 

p Lyla's eyes softened as she saw this, she knew how close he was to her parents, but she was still determined in her quest for the truth. Remus rubbed his eyes and sniffled a few times before putting on an obviously forced cheerful expression as he nervously greeted Lyla. "Have you...been standing there long?" he asked anxiously, while 'inconspicuously' shoving the photo into an opened drawer in his desk which was even more cluttered with papers than it had been the last time she'd talked with him. /p 

p "Not long, just long enough to decide to talk to you since it seems like you've been avoiding me lately," Lyla answered, her eyes following his movements as he walked across his classroom. /p 

p "I haven't been avoiding you," he said with his back to her. Lyla rolled her eyes at his outright denial of it. "But I regretfully have to say that I can't speak with you at the moment. I have a lot of things to take care of so if you don't mind," he made a gesture towards the door, implying that he wanted her to leave, but she wasn't about to do that. Not after she'd finally caught him. /p 

p "You supposedly haven't been avoiding me and yet you're trying to kick me out now?" Lyla asked while raising an eyebrow inquisitively. /p 

p Remus sighed partially in agitation that he'd been caught but mostly in defeat from the knowledge that he wouldn't be able to get away this time. Though he still didn't want to give in so easily so he kept up his argument, "I'm not kicking you out, Lyla. I'm just...very busy, and hoped that you would understand that, but it's clear to see that you either don't or refuse to." /p 

p Lyla scoffed at his words, "So you were busy when I walked in, really? Because to me it looked like you were staring at a picture of the very thing I've been meaning to discuss with you." /p 

p Remus visibly stiffened at her words but said nothing in reply. "Drop the act Remy. You know why I'm here, so why don't we just get this over with. You tell me what I want to know and I'll leave you to get back to your 'busy schedule'." /p 

p At her somewhat mocked phrasing Remus turned to face her. She was sitting at his desk, feet propped up on the top and in her hand was the photo he had tried to conceal from her. "I'll agree to tell you anything you want to know Lyla," Remus said suddenly after a few moments of silence had passed between them. Lyla opened her mouth to speak but Remus had beaten her to it, "If you inform me of your intentions. What are you planning on doing with the information I give you?" /p 

p Lyla's feet dropped back to the floor as she stood, "Why do you always suspect me of having ulterior motives?" /p 

p "Because you always do," he shouted back, stifling any protests she might have made. He may have been right but they were always for a good cause as was her objectives this time as well. It angered her that he had so little faith in her that he would suspect her of being up to something no good. Even though he never came right out and said that, she could read between the lines well enough to know what he meant. /p 

p She only wanted all the information she could get so that she could prove her theory either right or wrong. She wanted those dreams to stop and the only way she could think of to put an end to them was to solve the nearly 13 year mystery. But she wasn't about to tell Remus that, he'd never tell her anything if he knew she was only going to use the information to meddle with something she should keep her nose out of--as he would most likely phrase it. /p 

p "If you have something to say then come right out and say it," Lyla hissed back angrily, curious to know whether or not her suspicions were true. They probably were and it angered her that she wasn't more subtle in her approach. Although more than that she was angry with Remus for obviously jumping to--half accurate--conclusions. /p 

p It wasn't like she was plotting to use the information he gave her against everyone to hurt someone. No she just wanted--needed--to know the truth. She knew she would never be able to forgive herself if she didn't do something to help. Though, she wasn't quite sure yet whether it was to help keep Harry safe and away from Black or help prove Black's innocence. /p 

p That was the exact reason she needed to know all that Remus did. But once again she wasn't going to tell Remus that. He had made up his mind about what he thought of Sirius and the whole situation long ago. He wouldn't listen to a word she said if she'd told him her views on the subject. /p 

p Lyla sighed as she thought this, resigning to go back to her old ways of getting what she wanted/needed. She would only tell Remus things on a need-to-know basis. If it wasn't necessary that he know something for her to get the required results than he just wouldn't get wind of it. /p 

p She would tread carefully with her words, use his guilt of not telling her or Harry anything sooner against him--no matter how horrible that seemed, it was an essential step. She would make him think he was wrong in his suspicions. Make it seem as though she only wanted to know everything to help her brother with the fact that a 'murderer' was his godfather. She wasn't intentionally hurting Remus, for he brought it upon himself. If he had told them everything from the start then he'd have nothing to feel guilty about. /p 

p Remus' eyes hardened as he gazed at Lyla. He knew she was up to something and didn't like what it was he thought she was up to. "The only reason you're curious about Black, is because of what you and Harry learned last Saturday in Hogsmeade. I've known you long enough to know that you're prone to senseless actions. As soon as you have all the facts, you'll run out and try to find him and get revenge for your parents. But I won't let you do that." /p 

p His voice had risen to a considerably high decibel level as he yelled at Lyla. It was one of the very few times he ever shouted and they were usually always directed towards Lyla. Sighing sadly Remus locked eyes with Lyla, "You're parents didn't die that night so that you could go off and get yourself killed, Lyla." /p 

p Lyla fought the urge to laugh at how similar they both sounded. She had said nearly the same thing to Harry when he said he wanted to kill Black and now there Remus was trying to persuade her out of something she wasn't even planning on doing. Granted, yes, she was going to talk with Sirius sooner or later to get his side of the story but at least by then she'd have more evidence to support her hypothesis. /p 

p "I'm not going to go hunt him down, Remy. I swear I'm not. It's just..." she paused briefly choosing her words carefully. "Harry's not talking to me because he thinks I knew all along about Sirius being his godfather and the very reason mum and dad were killed. I just want to know what it is that I supposedly knew so that maybe I could help him cope with it. He's my brother...I don't want him to have to deal with this alone." /p 

p Lyla could see Remus start to give in as he thought about what she'd said. "He deserves to know..." A sudden thought had occurred to her as she opened her mouth to speak again, hoping Remus would give her the answer she wanted, "The both of us deserve to know whether or not our godfather betrayed our parents to their deaths or not." /p 

p Remus' shoulders tensed at her last words and he spoke up, "He's not your godfather, Lyla," he paused as he lifted his head from staring at the floor in shame of not telling both Lyla and Harry the whole truth from the very beginning. "I am," he mumbled quietly as though not wanting to reveal that. /p 

p It made sense; he was her guardian after all and she had been wondering if he was or not since she learned of Sirius' connection to Harry. Now she was questioning why he hadn't told her this sooner, and why did he seem so sad and reluctant to admit to it. /p 

p "Were you ever going to tell me this?" she asked; her purpose for being there at the moment slipping away as a new topic revealed itself. /p 

p Remus sighed while leaning up against an empty desk, "I was working up to it. It would have come up eventually...like it has now." /p 

p "So you wouldn't have said anything if it hadn't come up?" Lyla asked slightly hurt and angry to learn that he was keeping more from her than she'd thought. She briefly wondered what other mysteries there were that he wasn't telling her, that she would ultimately discover on her own for it was clear he wasn't going to tell her anything. /p 

p Remus rubbed at his temples with the palm of his hands. He refused to make eye contact with Lyla in fear of what he would see. After a few minutes of silence, when it became apparent that Lyla wasn't going to say anymore Remus reluctantly raised his gaze to meet hers. What he saw was just what he feared he would. /p 

p He never liked seeing Lyla hurt, whether emotionally or physically, and he never had to deal with being the cause of the pain. So it was upsetting for him to see that dejected look etched upon her face, knowing that it was his fault. /p 

p "Lyla, it's not because of you that I didn't tell you, if that's what you're thinking," he said cautiously, hoping to ease her thought process off the path it was on. /p 

p "Then what is it, if it's not me?" she asked softly. /p 

p "The only other logical choice," he said while getting up and walking towards her. Grabbing her by her shoulders Remus sighed, regretting not talking with his goddaughter earlier. "It's because of me, because of what I am. The possible harm I could bring to you," he paused, feeling just how hard it was to admit these things to her. /p 

p Lyla gazed up at her guardian/godfather, "You haven't hurt me at all, Remy--" /p 

p She was cut off by Remus finally meeting her eyes, "Not yet. You haven't seen me as I am when the full moon is out, Lyla. You haven't seen the monster I become, the monster I am," he let out a heavy sigh before going on. His eyes becoming once again glassy, "If ever we were to cross paths, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from hurting you. I could quite possibly even kill you or worse..." /p 

p The moment of silence that followed Remus' speech was most welcoming for the pair, as it wound around them in a comforting embrace. However, it wasn't as comforting to Lyla as it was for Remus, who would much rather stand there in silence then discuss the subject that they were immersed in. But Lyla was still confused about even more things than when she'd walked into the room. /p 

p She needed answers and was obstinate about getting them. "So you didn't tell me you were my godfather because you're a werewolf? Forgive me if that doesn't make sense to me Remy, but I already know what you are. I didn't run away from you screaming when you told me last summer. What makes you think you being a werewolf would make any difference to me now?" /p 

p Remus sighed once more upset that the hushed state had been disrupted. "I didn't tell you because of my lycanthropy. That was part of the reason but not all," he stopped again but was urged to go on by Lyla gently nudging him. "I was ashamed Lyla. Of what I am and what harm I could bring to you. I've no idea why your parents chose me as your godfather when I am so clearly unworthy and a danger to you and everyone." /p 

p Lyla shushed Remus from his ramblings. A tear ran down his cheek as Lyla reached up to wipe it away. Didn't he know that he had no reason to be ashamed of himself? He was like a second father to her and she would love him no matter what he was. Him being a werewolf didn't matter to her. It didn't make her love or care for him any less. /p 

p Lyla told him all this over and over again as she held him tightly until he seemed to calm down. He smiled a small watery smile down at his goddaughter. She had no idea how much it meant to him, hearing her words of comfort. He would tell her one day but at the moment they had other things to take care of. /p 

p Remus led Lyla to a chair at one of the many desks in his classroom. There they spent the rest of the day talking. Remus telling Lyla everything he'd been hiding from her, and Lyla asking questions when further explanations were required. All in all the day proved to be quite informative for Lyla. /p 

p Although she didn't buy into some of the things Remus believed were the truth, she had kept her mouth closed from making any comments, knowing it was a touchy enough subject for Remus. It didn't need anymore of her prodding for the truth. /p 

p Saying goodnight to Remus, Lyla made her way back to the Gryffindor common room. It was empty which Lyla was thankful for. She didn't want her brother getting on her case again when she was in a surprisingly pleasant mood. She'd gotten her answers and patched things up with Remy so naturally she'd be in high spirits. /p 

p She went to sleep that night thinking over everything that'd been revealed to her that day. Of how close the Marauders--as Remus informed her they were so called--actually were, especially her father and Black. Having that knowledge only served to strengthen her theories of Black being innocent; she just couldn't see him joining Voldemort, not when he detested his family for doing so. Things just seemed wrong somehow when she tried to place the blame on Sirius like everyone else had. /p 

p Her dreams that night were of the same nature as the night before and the night before that. Apparently Remus' information had done nothing to subdue them. But for some reason the dream didn't bother her as much as it did before. /p 

p From everything Remus told her, there wasn't a doubt left in her mind about Black's innocence. She was furious that everyone still blamed him for something he didn't do and confused as to where Peter was; for she had a feeling he wasn't dead. /p 

p Lyla woke early the next morning, with all those thoughts flooding her mind. Where she got the outrageous idea that Pettigrew was still alive, she didn't know. But she felt it somehow, and her instincts haven't failed her yet so she decided to believe that. For she had a feeling that in thinking that Pettigrew hadn't died that night laid the answers to her questions and the proof of Sirius' innocence. /p 

p Now all she needed to do was prove it. And that was proving to be problematic. Lyla opened her eyes with a groan as she caught a glimpse of her alarm clock: 5:41. Entirely too early to be awake by Lyla's standards and yet when she tried to fall back asleep, she failed horribly. /p 

/p Grumbling angrily about stupid dreams having no consideration for the sleep deprived, Lyla walked out of her dorm planning on sitting by the fire to ponder over her newest theory on Pettigrew. She didn't even bother to change out of her comfy p.j.'s which consisted of a pair of camo capris and a black halter top, (she's been known by her dorm mates to sleep in odd outfits such as this) she just slipped on a pair of flip flops and went on her way. /p 

p As soon as her foot hit the last step of the stairs and she could see into the common room, she halted her movements for she had spotted Harry occupying an armchair by the fire. Lyla didn't want to fight with him that early in the morning, especially when she couldn't articulate her words properly yet. She quickly turned on her heel, hoping to return to her dorm undetected but her hopes were soon shattered as Harry spoke up, stopping her mid-step. /p 

br 

/p "We need to talk Lyla," he said still staring at the fire, not even caring enough to lift his head to look at her when he spoke. Lyla fought back the urge to laugh as she walked into the common room. /p 

p "Now you want to talk? As I do recall you were the one not speaking to me yesterday. Why the sudden change of mind?" Lyla asked as she took a seat on the sofa across from his seat. She was about to say something else but stopped herself as she saw the serious expression on his face. /p 

p If she didn't want to fight, she knew it'd be up to her to be the mature one and listen to whatever it was he had to say. He stayed silent for a while as if waiting to see if Lyla would say anything else. When she didn't he opened his mouth and said, "I'm sorry." /p 

p At first Lyla thought she'd imagined him saying that. She had to continually tell herself not to say anything, for most likely the thing to come out of her mouth would not be anything Harry would want to hear, especially after he'd apologized. She settled for raising an eyebrow in question but silently nodding, seeming to accept his apology. /p 

p "It was wrong of me to blame everything on you, when you had nothing to do with Black and everything he's done. I shouldn't have accused you of keeping things from me when I've been ignoring you all year. I didn't mean to...I didn't even notice, and I want to make it up to you..." he said trailing off and waiting for his sister's response, anticipating the worse. For her to not forgive him, he wouldn't blame her. He admitted that he had been a bad older brother and didn't deserve to be forgiven. /p 

p He was lucky he had a sister like Lyla, for she forgave him in an instant. Him admitting that he was wrong was enough to persuade her to. They spent much of the next few hours finally getting to know each other better. He told her all about his life before Hogwarts as did she for him. It was only until Harry started his tale of his first two years at Hogwarts did things start to catch Lyla's attention that other people would most likely prefer didn't. /p 


	16. Chapter 16

- Chapter 16 -

[Bah-Humbug To Snape

p "So you're telling me he was seriously under the turban?!" Lyla asked through a spasm of giggles later that afternoon, after having just had lunch with Harry and his friends. /p 

p They had joined them at lunch and were filling in some details here and there that Harry had missed. Hermione still seemed to dislike Lyla a great deal. Every time she made eye contact with Lyla her expression would turn sour and she would glare or sneer at poor Lyla. /p 

p Not that Lyla didn't deserve her hostility...to a certain extent. She had been awfully antagonistic towards Hermione as well so she had no reason to complain. /p 

p Lyla rolled her eyes at Hermione's futile attempt at making her feel unwanted. She was making their first two years at Hogwarts out to seem just grand and better without Lyla. She didn't come right out and say that but did an outstanding job at implying it. /p 

p But Lyla paid no attention to Hermione's attitude towards her. She knew she wouldn't have to deal with it for long anyway. Not after she figured out what Hermione had been hiding from all of them, to which she was well on her way to discovering. /p 

p Lyla came back to reality as Hermione rose to her feet. She had said she was going somewhere but Lyla wasn't paying attention and missed the exact location. She left Harry and Ron in the common room with Lyla, sending one last parting glare her way before departing. /p 

p "Is it just me or does Hermione still not like me very much?" Lyla asked while laughing at the way the bushy haired girl was acting. /p 

p Harry and Ron rolled their eyes knowing full well that Hermione couldn't stand Lyla. Ignoring Lyla's question, they continued on to tell her tales of their second year. From having to fly Mr. Weasley's car to Hogwarts and accidentally into the Whomping Willow all the way to Harry facing Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets. /p 

p Lyla listened actively to each word and detail that was said. It was basically like the two of them were telling her a story or something and Lyla found herself caught up in all the events, wishing she had been there to experience it all first hand. /p 

/p There were some very interesting facts that Lyla had paid more attention to than others. Harry's encounter with the basilisk and Riddle, Ron and Harry's run in with Aragog, and the use of polyjuice potion to infiltrate the Slytherin common room for example. /p 

p Lyla shuddered involuntarily when Ron described the giant Acromantula, but soon got over it as she inquired further details of the Polyjuice Potion. She already knew why they used it but not where they got the idea to or what happened afterwards. /p 

p Harry explained that Hermione had suggested using the potion, he ignored Lyla's astonished expression--she found it hard to believe that little Miss Priss would ever break the rules. The potion, they had said, was very difficult to make and took nearly a month to brew correctly. /p 

p And it did take them that long after actually getting a signed permission from Lockhart--whom Lyla thought to be a complete and utter imbecile--to sign out i _Moste Potente Potions /i _ from the library. Lyla didn't bother listening to Harry and Ron search their memories for the procedure to make the potion, for she was planning on checking the book out anyway. /p 

p She did however, get knocked back into reality when they told her of the transformation. "It was bloody horrible and wicked at the same time. So foul tasting and I can't even describe it now with out gagging," said Ron overdramatically. /p 

p Lyla laughed as he brought his hands up to his neck and started jokingly choking. Harry agreed about the taste and said that the change was pretty painful as well. As disgusting and 'horrible' as they'd said, their descriptions didn't thwart Lyla's curiosity. In fact it did the complete opposite. /p 

p She was always one for danger and adventure and trying this potion seemed like a challenge and she did love a challenge. Her mind was also plotting the possibilities of changing her appearance to someone else. That would certainly come in handy for some of her more multifaceted schemes. /p 

p One thing was kind of off though. Harry and Ron had said the entire thing was Hermione's idea, but only the two of them had gone to the Slytherin common room. If Lyla were her and had just spent a month brewing that potion she would definitely let nothing prevent her from trying it out herself. /p 

p She voiced her question to the still reminiscing boys, "Where was Hermione when all this was happening?" Almost instantly Harry and Ron silenced themselves, shooting nervous glances at each other. "Awe come on, I want to know!" Lyla said with a whine and pout. /p 

p She knew they were hiding something and she wouldn't give up until she discovered what it was. "I don't think Hermione would want us to tell you," said Harry apologetically. /p 

p Lyla laughed and said, "You know what Hermione don't know wont hurt her...Or you," she added as an after thought. She was trying to persuade them to tell her and knew it would work. Ron already looked about ready to give in; of course he wasn't really concerned about Hermione finding out. /p 

p In the end Ron spilled the secret to her while Harry kept quiet, not wanting to betray Hermione. "Hermione was coughing up fur balls?" Lyla managed to squeak out through her laughter. She had fallen off the sofa and was rolling around on the rug by the fireplace, holding her sides just at the thought of that happening to Hermione. /p 

p Lyla's laugh soon became contagious as her brother and Ron joined her on the floor in her laughing escapade. But that ended soon after, for Hermione's kitty experience had reminded Lyla of her need to speak with McGonagall. /p 

p "Alright guys, it's been fun and all, but I have things to do," she said, through the lasts of her giggles, as she pulled herself to her feet and said her goodbye's to them. With one final warning from her brother about not saying anything to Hermione, Lyla left the common room--leaving Harry and Ron to evoke memories about past good times and adventures while procrastinating on their homework. /p 

p She searched nearly everywhere for her Head of House, but couldn't seem to find her. She went to her office and classroom but those were both empty. She wouldn't be in the Great Hall for lunch had ended a while ago and dinner wasn't for a good five hours or so. She wasn't with any of the other Professors either and they didn't know where she was...well the one's Lyla had asked anyway. /p 

p She wasn't about to go ask Snape. She was on vacation and didn't want to have to see him anymore than she already had to. Besides, Lyla was fairly certain that McGonagall felt entirely the same way about the greasy Potions Master and therefore would not be anywhere near him unless truly necessary. /p 

p The only other options were that her Professor was either speaking with the Headmaster or she was in the teachers lounge. Lyla decided to head there first, not knowing the password to Dumbledore's office and she didn't feel like standing there till she found the correct sweet it was that time. /p 

p She was fortunate to head that way first for McGonagall was just leaving when she arrived. Rushing up to the departing Professor, Lyla smiled when she finally caught up to her. For an older lady she sure was fast. "Good afternoon, Professor!" she greeted cheerily although she didn't feel quite cheerful after having raced around the castle in search of McGonagall. /p 

p "Oh hello there, Miss Potter," McGonagall replied back looking a bit befuddled. Lyla had never spoken with her outside of class and from what she had gathered from Remus, if Lyla was there it only meant she wanted something. "Can I help you?" she inquired wondering whether her assumption was correct. /p 

p Apparently so, "Well there was something I was wondering, actually. And since you're the only one I know that could possibly answer this question from personal experience I decided to ask you. I've just been rather busy since I got here that I haven't had the chance to talk with you," Lyla answered being as vague in her answer as she possibly could. /p 

p "Personal experience?" McGonagall asked, raising an eyebrow in question. /p 

p "Yes, that is if it's all right with you," Lyla quickly said hopefully. She really did want to know, anything she could in fact, and like she said McGonagall was the only one she knew of that could answer her questions. She knew she was taking a risk in asking a Hogwarts Professor but she knew of no one else. /p 

p Professor McGonagall was slightly suspicious of Lyla but said nothing on it. Her curiosity of the girls question was overriding any notion of distrust she may have had. "It's about that lesson you gave us on the animagi back in September," Lyla said in what she hoped was a casual voice as she walked with her Professor. /p 

p McGonagall was still suspicious but overall more delighted that Lyla was actually paying attention and took an interest in something she was teaching. Most of the time the girl acted much like her father had when he was in school. He didn't pay attention to a word she'd say but still somehow managed to pull off exceptional grades in her class. His daughter was no different so she was inclined to answer even though she had a feeling she ought not to. /p 

p The pair halted in the middle of the corridor as the much taller Professor waited for her student's question. Lyla shuffled back and forth on her feet as she tentatively spat out, "Did it hurt?" /p 

p McGonagall was slightly startled by this question. "Pardon?" she asked, "Did what hurt?" /p 

br (A/N: "When you fell from heaven? Did it hurt?"--gah! Could not help myself from that one, it was either this little author's note or have Lyla actually say that and I didn't think it to be appropriate at all so forgive me please ) /br 

p "When you became an animagus...did the process hurt?" Lyla asked wondering herself if she actually wanted to know the answer. /p 

p Professor McGonagall smiled down at Lyla. "Not if it's done correctly so to answer your question: no, when I became an animagus it did not hurt." /p 

p Lyla held back a sigh of relief. She didn't like pain and would do all she could to avoid it, but sometimes there were things that were unavoidable especially with her carefree attitude of jumping before checking where she would land. "So, could you feel anything at all? Like organs shifting, bones reconstructing to another form?" /p 

p McGonagall raised an eyebrow at the girl, "Why so curious Miss Potter?" /p 

p On the inside Lyla panicked, hoping beyond hope that her true motives had not been discovered. Luckily for her she was a good actor and a very fast thinker. "Well, we work a lot with transfiguring animals into other things like inanimate objects, but they can't tell us if they feel any pain when we do that. Now I'm a big animal lover so I took this into consideration and the closest thing that would give me an answer was someone who had actually been through the process or something like it." /p 

p The answer seemed believable enough and McGonagall bought into Lyla's story right away but not without commenting on something. "Animal lover, huh? Even all those bunnies out there?" she asked with a sly smile already knowing the answer. /p 

p Lyla narrowed her eyes at her teacher at the mention of the evil creatures. "Well there's always an exception," she muttered darkly to herself. McGonagall laughed merrily at this and seemed to forget all her suspicions of Lyla. In fact they spent the rest of the walk to her office talking about the subject with out problem. /p 

p McGonagall had explained in detail, the process of becoming an animagus, not noticing the spark light up in Lyla's eyes that just about spelled trouble in flashing neon lights. Lyla thanked Merlin; Remus didn't show up during their conversation. He would have been very curious about what they were talking about and wouldn't have been fooled by Lyla's animalistic sympathy. /p 

p McGonagall mentioned a book that explained in depth the process more than she could and even told Lyla that she would provide her with any more outside information she might have been interested in. Now Lyla wasn't one to turn down a chance to sneak a peak at classified information let alone turn down the chance to take aforementioned material with her to read at her leisure so of course she was more than inclined to accept her Professor's most generous offer. /p 

p Lyla left her Head of House's office later that evening, her arms riddled with books that would help her reach her ultimate goal. She carefully made her way to the library where she would spend much of the next few days reading over the material McGonagall had supplied her with. /p 

p And that was how much of her time was spent over the next few days, studying in the library. She wanted to make sure everything was perfect and that nothing would go wrong when she attempted the transformation. She had one shot to get it right and would not tolerate failure. /p 

p Apart from learning the transformation process, Lyla used her library time to learn the material being taught in the classes her schedule didn't permit her to take. She loathed to admit the need for help especially when the only one to turn to--that she knew of--was Hermione. But sadly the work was difficult, as she had expected, and she finally came to the conclusion that she could not understand it all on her own. She would have to ask Hermione for help, but the tricky part was getting the proper leverage so her fellow Gryffindor could not refuse. /p 

p Lyla was not above blackmailing Hermione into helping her. She in fact, found herself quite giddy at the thought of such an opportunity. The bushy haired girl had time and time again expressed her contempt for Lyla, to which Lyla was somewhat deserving of but not completely. So she might as well do something to deserve such abhorrence from the girl. /p 

p Finding a source to blackmail Hermione with however, was easier planned than accomplished. The girl's records were cleaner than aunt Petunia's floors--according to Harry--which from what Lyla could tell, translated to virtually spotless. The only thing Lyla could think of was finding out what Hermione was so secretive about that year. But even that proved fruitless since the damn girl was obviously a master at hiding evidence--yes she looked. /p 

p Harry and Ron didn't know anything either. They noticed her strange behavior but could never get anything out of their friend. At hearing this from her brother and Ron, Lyla temporarily gave up her covert self-assigned mission. She vowed to find out what Hermione was up to, but she didn't want to focus on that entirely while she had other things to deal with. /p 

p Her and Harry were growing closer as siblings. They spent much of every night just sitting by the fire talking. Harry had basically told Lyla all about his life and the people in it. She highly disliked her estranged Aunt, Uncle, and cousin Dudley and couldn't wait for the day on which they would meet. She would have much to say and she'd make sure they listened and understood her every word. /p 

p Lyla told Harry this and he seemed very eager to bring her back to the Dursley's with him. Especially after she told him of all the trouble she used to get into--used to wasn't exactly the right wording of course...she still did and Harry was quick to point that out. /p 

p The more the two talked however, the stronger those guilty feelings in the back of her mind grew. She wanted to tell Harry her thoughts on the Sirius Black situation but knew better than to do so. He wouldn't have understood, not until she had some kind of tangible proof of his innocence. /p 

p Christmas Eve day soon came and Lyla was found prancing down a random corridor early in the morning. She had just come from the Owlery after sending out presents for all her friends by a few of the school owls. She hoped that by sending them that early they would reach her friends by Christmas Day--or possibly even that night if she was lucky. /p 

p She had to use four school owls to send the gifts to her friends for some of the gifts were quite large. She would have sent the gifts with York, but for some reason she felt better when he was near by. She didn't like not knowing where he was and whether or not he was ok. He was more than just a pet to her, he was her friend. Sometimes she even thought he could understand her when she spoke to him. /p 

p Lyla smiled as she continued her way down another deserted corridor of Hogwarts castle, pondering what her friends would think of their gifts. She was never very good at picking things out for other people; she much preferred they just tell her what they wanted and then she'd go out and get just that. /p 

p Unfortunately, that wasn't the case and her friends left her to choose things by herself. For Rylie Lyla had gotten her friend some nice jewelry that she herself liked and a bunch of sugar quills. Her and Rylie had similar tastes in jewelry and everything else basically so Lyla didn't worry so much over whether she'd enjoy her gifts. /p 

p For Oliver however it was almost the complete opposite. The only thing Lyla knew of for sure that he liked was Quidditch, which was incidentally the one thing about the magical world that she didn't. She knew nothing of the sport and therefore was quite lost when searching through Hogsmeade for something he would like. She settled on something safe--a book of Quidditch strategies, which she was fairly certain, would earn her a huge hug when they next saw each other. /p 

p Smiling even more at that thought her mind wandered to her favorite troublemakers. She had no doubts they'd love their gifts for Mr. Zonko had helped her pick them out himself. He reassured her that Fred and George had been eyeing the items that she had purchased for them but couldn't afford to buy them themselves. Oh how she wished to be there to see their faces when they opened her gifts. /p 

p Lyla sighed, missing her friends dearly. She stopped her musings as she glanced around the deserted corridor. It was _way_ too quiet for her liking. She never did like silent moments, let alone long stretches of it. She much preferred to make as much noise as humanly possible at times like these and this one was no different. /p 

p She was in a cheery mood to begin with and decided a few Christmas Carols were in order. However, she didn't like your everyday run-of-the-mill carols. No way, she was Lyla Potter; of course she wasn't going to sing a i _normal /i _ song. /p 

p Luckily she knew just the song for the present holiday. She took a deep breath while preparing herself to continue her skipping and started her song, dancing down the hallway as she did so: /p 

br 

CENTER p Randolph the green-nosed tuna fish--tuna fish, /p 

p Had a very slimy nose, /p 

p And if you ever saw it, /p 

p You would even say it glows. /p 

br 

p All of the other tuna fish--tuna fish, /p 

p Used to laugh and call him names, /p 

p They never let poor Randolph, /p 

p Join in any tuna fish games. /p 

br 

p Then one soggy Christmas Eve, /p 

p Santa came to say--in a speedo... /p 

p "Randolph with your nose so green, /p 

p Won't you guide my submarine?" /p 

br 

p Then all the tuna fish loved him, /p 

p And they shouted out with glee--Yipee! /p 

p Randolph the green-nosed tuna fish--tuna fish, /p 

p You'll go down the Chicken of the Sea! /p 

/br /CENTER 

p "Oomph," Lyla sputtered out as her last note was cut shorter than she had wanted it to be. She wasn't quite looking where she was skipping but thought she had been far enough away from the walls to not run into anything. /p 

p Unfortunately she was wrong and had run into a wall of black, or at least that was how it appeared to her when that close. She stumbled back a few steps but managed to keep her balance and stay on her feet. When she was certain she wouldn't fall, she looked up into the sallow face of her 'favorite' Potions Master. /p 

p He had a calculating look on his face and seemed like he really wanted to say something but was fighting to keep quiet. Snape moved to walk away, shaking his head and muttering, "I don't even want to know," as he passed the younger girl. However his curiosity had gotten the best of him, causing Snape to back track till he was towering over her again. "What on earth are you doing?" /p 

p Lyla looked up at Snape with that innocent look on her face that Snape had seen enough times from her to know better than to fall for the act. It was still quite early in the morning and Lyla considered just answering him instead of giving him a hard time, but she couldn't. She felt the unfulfilled urge to i _bother /i _ him and wasn't about to refuse giving into it. It was too fun not to. /p 

p "Haven't you ever had the urge to skip down these corridors and sing as loud as you could?" Lyla asked fervently, knowing full well what the answer was. Of course that's never happened to him. If it had it would show that he actually had a sense of humor and if he did, Lyla would know. They'd be getting along much better if it were that way. /p 

p Snape didn't answer her outlandish question--not that he had to though--the scowl on his face was all the answer Lyla required. She sighed overdramatically, wishing the greasy git would lighten up a bit. /p 

br p ( heh that rhymed!) /p /br 

p Making it seem like it was a big bother to her, she answered his question, seriously this time, "I was just singing some Christmas carols. You know, getting in the holiday spirit since it is Christmas Eve and all..." Lyla smiled cheerily hoping he'd let her go. /p 

p Unfortunately Snape had other things in mind, like thoroughly trying his hardest to anger her. "There's no justification for you to be out of your dormitory at this hour, waking the dead with your unremitting screeches," Snape sneered unpleasantly, although she doubted he even knew the meaning of the word pleasant. /p 

p 'What a jerk,' Lyla thought as the smile was promptly wiped from her face. She didn't think she was screeching. She had been told on numerous occasions that she had a lovely singing voice, so she was a bit insulted by his choice of words, though she'd never let him know that he'd gotten to her. /p 

p But she did however, plan to set him straight and wipe the mocking smirk from his ghastly face. "Why are you wandering about the castle this early anyway?" Snape asked in that accusing tone he reserved especially for Lyla. "No doubt you're up to something," he said quickly, cutting short any response she may have tried to give. "You might as well confess now and I might be lenient with you, it being Christmas Eve and all..." he drawled out mockingly, purposefully using her words against her. /p 

p Lyla couldn't help but feel even more offended. For the first time in her life she actually hadn't been up to something. Yet she still had accusations and suspicious glares thrown her way. She would have been alright with everything had she i _done /i _ something or had been i _planning /i _ to but the fact of the matter was she hadn't. /p 

p 'It amazes me how he can be so full of himself all of the time and yet so utterly wrong about everything and anything most of the time.' Lyla thought while biting her tongue to prevent herself from speaking her mind. It was true that she would have loved to see the look on his face after hearing her words, but she wasn't quite sure whether or not he could still give her detention for it during vacation. /p 

p Lyla wouldn't risk it anyways. She had too many things to accomplish while she had the free time and wouldn't allow her hook-nosed Professor to ruin all her plans just because she couldn't keep her mouth shut. /p 

p "I was not wandering, sir," she answered calmly, spitting out 'sir' as acidly as she could. Clearly showing the disrespect she held for him for she had many other things in mind to address him as other than that title. "And I'm not up to anything. I was simply checking out the castle, memorizing routes to classes, since I am new here and haven't had an adequate amount of time to do so previously." /p 

p Snape sneered at the tone of voice she had taken on when speaking to him. As if she was talking down to him of all people. He didn't like it and wouldn't stand for it either. "And you couldn't have done so while getting to your classes first term?" he asked snidely, wondering what excuse she would use. /p 

p The girl had a million of them like all Gryffindors usually did. Except hers were always different from her housemates', and the fact that they were actually plausible was not lost on him. He would never admit it, but she would have been a magnificent addition to Slytherin House, had she not been...so much like a Potter. /p 

p Snape abruptly ended his train of thoughts from straying too far into memories of the past and the beginning of all his hatred towards the Potter family. He brought his attention back to the young girl before him that looked so much like her mother he was almost fooled into believing her attempts to pull one over on him. Nearly every time they encountered one another in a situation similar to this, he had to continuously remind himself that she acted more like her father, no matter the innocent charm she had about her. /p 

p "No for I was more focused on actually getting to my classes than scoping out the paths," Lyla retorted back just as nastily as Snape had been. She had paused before saying that though, and watched the array of emotions and expressions pass over her Professors face before they returned back to his neutral glare. /p 

p She was amazed to note that he actually had more than two facial expressions but didn't quite stay stuck on the phenomenon. She wondered what could have been going through his mind for such an occurrence to take place. However she couldn't think long on that either for the incident had obviously not left enough of an impact on him to change his attitude towards her and all Gryffindors ...but mostly her. /p 

p "Nevertheless, there's still no justification to be raising hell at this hour. Ten points will be deducted from Gryffindor for your behavior. Now I suggest you get back to your dormitory at once, before I choose to take further measures against you." /p 

p Snape smirked in satisfaction at having started his day with making the rest of Lyla's day horrible. But alas, he had forgotten that the girl could care less about any sort of punishment he could dish out and that ruined his 'good' mood. The girl didn't react like others, including her brother and his pathetic friends, did. /p 

p They were all scared of him, intimidated even at the merest glance in their direction. He could make a seventh year break down into incomprehensible sobs with a single word. So why was it that nothing he could do had any effect on the more infuriating of the Potter twins? /p 

p He didn't have an answer and not having that irked him all the more as he waited for her to leave. But she of course didn't, and he didn't really expect her to. She wouldn't until she felt she had won their little clash of words, which he was also determined to win. /p 

p "I can't exactly do that, Professor," she answered in a bored tone causing the raven haired Potions Master to raise an eyebrow in suspicion. /p 

p "And why cant you?" he asked, purely to satisfy his own curiosity. /p 

p Lyla smirked at him and answered, knowing full well that her answer would not be one he would appreciate by the time she was finished. He was too predictable to her it was almost sad. "I seem to have found myself completely lost." /p 

p "And whose fault is that?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes at the impudent Gryffindor. Never before had a student ever tested his patience and he was finding it somewhat refreshing to be challenged and yet increasingly aggravating at her persistence to win or always be right. It was nearly as bad as speaking with know-it-all Granger. /p 

p "Well to be completely honest...yours," Lyla stated, holding back a devious smile. She knew his curiosity would get the best of him and he'd walk right into her trap. /p 

p And he did, "How pray tell, is it my fault that you have the directional capacity of a blinded troll?" Snape asked realizing a moment too late that he shouldn't have said that. /p 

p "Well you see, if it weren't for i _you /i _ detaining me here and punishing me for a completely harmless--and not to mention nonexistent--offense, than I would have already completed my objective and would i _know /i _ the correct path to take that would lead me to Gryffindor tower. So you see i _I'm /i _ not at fault in this case," Lyla stated smiling slyly knowing she had a point. /p 

p Snape narrowed his eyes at Lyla and scowled. He had nothing to say since logically it made sense to a certain degree. "I suggest then, that you go about doing so quietly!" he snarled out, turning on his heel to stalk away, angry at his apparent loss. /p 

p "Well, bah-humbug to you too Scrooge..." Lyla muttered as she skipped on passed his halted form. There was no doubt that he'd heard her and would in some way retaliate, but she wasn't worried about that since she knew she could handle whatever he threw at her. /p 

p Unlike many of the students at Hogwarts, Lyla didn't obey her Professor's order. She continued on skipping through the corridors, humming a few bars of 'Kidnap the Sandy Claws' from the muggle film i _The Nightmare Before Christmas /i _, and other carols suitable for the upcoming holiday. She didn't do so quietly either, unconcerned for it was well into the afternoon anyways. /p 

p She told the truth about not knowing her way around too well. Since all she really needed to know was how to get to and from all her classes she spent much of the rest of that day wandering the castle discovering secret passages and where they led to, constantly dodging behind a suit of armor or into an empty classroom when Snape was nearby until she was too tired to move any longer and retired for the night, eagerly anticipating the next morning. /p 


	17. Chapter 17

-Chapter 17-

- Chapter 17 -

Triskaidekaphobia Much...

After a long time waiting for it, the day had finally come. Snow drifted down around the massive structure of Hogwarts castle that Christmas morning, as Lyla hurried about the third year girls' dormitory rushing to get ready for the day. The room appeared as though a hurricane had raged through it where only two girls inhabited at the present time.

Clothes were strewn all around the room, on the floor, under and on the bed—including hanging limply from the four posters—on the ancient lantern hangings and even over a few paintings that decorated the walls, much to the protest of it's inhabitants. Nothing was left uncovered by some sort of article of clothing. At the foot of her bed was a fairly neat pile of presents—that she didn't even glance at yet, mostly because they were partially covered by her quilt.

She had thrown them off of her after peering at her bedside clock and was about to just fall back into the recesses of her mind once again when she realized what day it was. Automatically upon realizing this, she leapt from her warm and comfortable bed to get ready for the day, throwing things out of her trunk to find what she wanted to wear which resulted in the disaster area the whole room had rapidly progressed to.

She threw on a white knitted semi-short sleeved shirt which fit her quite nicely, and some loose fitting dark red velvet gaucho pants. After pulling on some white thigh high stockings and slipping her feet into some comfortable maroon two inch heels, Lyla pulled her hair back so a bit was pulled up while the majority was still left hanging down and out of her eyes.

Grabbing her wand from the hiding spot under her pillow, Lyla levitated the packages at the end of her bed, walking them down to the common room where a rather perturbed looking Hermione passed her with a struggling Crookshanks in her arms. She was muttering something about stupid boys and Lyla figured Harry and Ron had somehow managed to anger her for she seemed rather brassed off. Lyla shrugged off her curiosity and sat down on the floor beside the fire, gifts spread out around her ready to be opened.

She separated the one's she had gotten for Harry and everyone else that had stayed from the one's she received overnight from her friends. Lyla rocked back and forth impatiently. She wanted to open her gifts but she wished to hand out hers more, to enjoy her first Christmas experience with her brother. It might not have meant anything to Harry but it meant a lot to Lyla.

Thankfully she didn't have to wait long. Not ten minutes later, Harry and Ron trudged down the stairs from the boys' dormitory and into the common room. Harry was carrying a new broom that Lyla recognized as a Firebolt she had seen earlier that year in Diagon Alley. The boys sat themselves down around her after exchanging their greetings, Ron admiring the exquisite broom from an arm chair by the fire as Harry did the same.

Hermione came down as well, soon after locking Crookshanks in their dorm room—Lyla had heard the hissing protests from the feline and deduced what had happened from there. The air was filled with tension but Lyla ignored it, figuring it had nothing to do with her so she might as well stay out of it. Instead she focused on having a cheery Christmas morning with her brother and his friends.

"Is everyone ready for presents?" she said with enthusiasm dripping from each syllable. Her words managed to catch even Ronald's attention from her brother's broom. Lyla smiled as she handed the parcels she had bought in Hogsmeade to a delighted Harry and Ron and an even more so flabbergasted Hermione.

Despite the girl's hostility towards Lyla she had purchased a Christmas present for her. She thought of it as a sort of peace offering on her part, though she still planned to gather the required information to 'persuade' her brother's bushy-haired friend purely as a precautionary step. In case things didn't go quite as Lyla had envisioned and Hermione up and refused to cooperate, then she had a back up plan that the stuck up Gryffindor couldn't help but oblige with Lyla's request.

Lyla smiled to herself, reaching for a package from Rylie, as she watched the others open their gifts. She had witnessed Hermione nearly drooling over the personalized book reader and study guide at Hogsmeade and couldn't help but grin as she witnessed the barrage of emotions run over Hermione's face. Everything from shock and happiness to guilt made their presence known to Lyla as Hermione quietly thanked her for the gift.

Ron and Harry's reaction to their presents deviated from Hermione's timorous response. Ron's face lit up with joy at the sight of all the candy. But especially at the sight of the Chudley Cannons: Chocolate Citrus Blasts—chocolate candies shaped like Quidditch equipment that give off a blast of citrus flavor when bit into. Ron expressed his thanks as he bit into a blast shaped like a broom that actually floated in the air for a few moments.

Harry was speechless at his gift, looking not only surprised but shocked as well. Lyla was at a complete loss for what to get him, when last in Hogsmeade. And she had to admit he was the hardest to shop for compared to the rest. But after searching high and low she had finally stumbled, quite literally, into the perfect gift.

Lyla smiled as Harry finally found his voice again, thanking her for the personalized golden snitch for him to practice on that said, "Hogwart's Greatest Seeker," and "Harry Potter," on it.

"I wanted to get you a new broom since your last one kind of lost a fight against the Whomping Willow. Unfortunately I didn't know the first thing about them let alone whether it'd be good or not, so I thought you'd like this just as much," Lyla explained as she moved on to open her gifts, completely missing the glances that were shared between Harry and his friends.

"So you're saying you didn't send me the Firebolt?" asked Harry as his sister tore at the wrapping paper of a "Do it Yourself Hair Magick," book from Rylie.

"Sweet," Lyla muttered to herself as she flipped through some of the pages. She glanced up at her brother while reaching for the package he had gotten for her. "No, I didn't send you the broom," she answered absentmindedly while unwrapping another book, this one on creating spells and potions.

Lyla smiled widely at her brother, knowing that he had just accidentally helped her with her prank on Snape. "Why? Don't you know who sent it?" she asked, focusing back on opening the rest of the parcels to help her resist the urge to get started on creating her own mischief.

Harry explained to Lyla that the Firebolt had no card or anything indicating who it was from so he had assumed she had gotten it for him. Lyla listened, nodding to signal that she was indeed paying attention as she opened a box filled with an assortment of chocolates and gummy snakes.

"Great minds think alike, eh?" Lyla said to Ron laughing at the fact that they'd both gotten each other candy. Harry, Ron, and Hermione chatted with each other about Harry's Firebolt and who could have sent it while Lyla gazed at her last two gifts, trying to decide which to open next.

"Something wrong?" asked Hermione, shaking Lyla from her thoughts from the shock of _her_ asking that. It was surprising because she actually sounded like she cared. 'I guess that peace-offering is working, I knew I could guilt her into being civil to me,' Lyla mused to herself.

"I'm fine," Lyla answered going back to staring at the two packages, a large colorfully wrapped box from the twins and a small black parcel from Oliver. She wondered if it was even safe to open the twins' gift at all considering they had probably purchased whatever it was before she made them swear to never prank her again.

"Then why are you glaring at your gifts?" asked Ron, whose attention had been turned away from the candy goodness of his present, to where Lyla sat doing just as he said, glaring suspiciously at her gifts.

Lyla sat up straighter and replied with an indignant, "I am not!" to which her three companions shot her skeptical looks. "Ok maybe I am, but you would be too if you were about to open something from Fred and George. Cant be too careful you know?" she answered as she sat up on her knees, dragging the twins' gift towards her; Oliver's present being momentarily forgotten.

Cautiously, Lyla peeled off the rather vibrant wrapping paper, weary of the package exploding or something but was moderately disappointed when it hadn't. Sure she was relieved that she didn't get a nasty surprise of something literally blowing up in her face but still it was quite unlike the twins to not do something excessive no matter promises that had been made. It was Christmas after all; Lyla wouldn't have held them accountable for their actions. She would have just laughed it off and joked with them when they returned.

Lyla smiled widely as she peered into the now open and completely harmless box. She was starting to think she had the whole 'Thinking Like a Weasley' concept down pat, for in the box was numerous pranky delights. The twins' had restocked her supply of dungbombs, stink pellets, Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start No-Heat Fireworks and other such items that would make Filch cringe.

Knowing already that Hermione would not approve of such things and not wanting to fight again, Lyla closed her box full of goodies and picked up the small black package from the extremely attractive, Quidditch obsessed, accent swoon-inducing, Oliver Wood. Lyla was possibly more worried about opening this gift than the twins' for that one little gift could mean the difference between whether he was truly interested in her or not.

If it turned out to be some chummy gift that seemed more suited for 'one of the guys' like something Quidditch related than he wasn't interested. If it wasn't something like that then there were definite possibilities for the future. Lyla scrunched her eyes closed as she opened Oliver's gift, hoping beyond hope that it had nothing to do with Quidditch.

Upon opening the parcel all her doubts were swept away as a shocked and excited gasp escaped Lyla's lips, catching the attention of her brother and his friends. Lyla didn't even notice they were still in the same room as she looked at the beautiful ring. It had a white gold band with a shiny black pearl situated on top of horizontally placed band encircling most of the pearl.

Lyla literally squealed in excitement as she placed it on her right hand ring finger, stretching her hand out in front of her to look at it. She glanced up at the curious looks of her companions and smiled widely before speaking specifically to Hermione since she would be most likely to understand her situation.

"Ok Hermione, you're a girl so you'll get this. On a scale of 1 to 10 for first Christmas gift from a possible future boy toy, what does Oliver get?" Lyla raised her hand enthusiastically to show Hermione eliciting a gasp from the bushy haired girl.

"A definite 10!" Hermione exclaimed with a huge grin while sliding down to the floor to closer examine the gorgeous ring.

"Any idea what the big deal with the ring is, Harry?" asked Ron, gazing at the giggling girls in confusion.

"Nope," answered Harry, doing quite a good job at mirroring his friend's expression even though he had an idea, he just didn't like where it was going, especially if it meant anything more than friendship between his sister and the _much_ older Oliver Wood. But he wasn't going to ruin his first Christmas with his sister by bringing his concerns to light. He went back to admiring his new Firebolt with Ron as the girls gushed over Lyla's ring.

This went on for most of the morning until Lyla decided that it was time for her to wish her 'Remy-kins' Merry Christmas. After putting her presents away in her dormitory, and retrieving her gift for Remus, Lyla set out of the common room and down to Remus' office on the second floor.

It was unlikely that he would be working, but his private quarters were attached to his office, the entrance hidden behind a moving wall. It required a password to get in of course but it just so happened that Lyla knew the password, but even if she didn't she knew Remus well enough to guess correctly.

"Romulus," Lyla said with her hand on the wall behind his desk causing it to sink into the floor as she passed through the threshold into the sitting room of Remus' private chambers. She mused out loud to the figure of her godfather sprawled out face down on the couch by the roaring fire. "You know considering your name and all it's really odd that you would make your password that when in history and ancient mythology, Romulus killed his twin brother Remus to become the first King of Rome."

Remus groaned out tiredly as he rolled over on his back muttering something about how he wished Romulus would kill him now. "That's so not funny, don't say that," Lyla admonished—meaning it when she said it wasn't funny—as she whacked him over the head with a throw pillow. Remus laughed as he sat up to make room for her on the couch next to him, apologizing for what he'd said.

Lyla rolled her eyes at her somnolent godfather, as she stretched out on the rather plush sofa resting her head on Remus' lap. There was to be a full moon that night and it appeared as though he was already feeling the effects of his upcoming transformation. Wanting to get his mind off his _Furry Little Secret,_ Lyla brought his attention back to the topic at hand.

"So what's with the rather close to home exemplification of a legendary homicidal brother slayer for a password?"

"What's with you and using big words so early in the morning?" he retorted instantly.

"It's already 1:45," Lyla answered back, glancing at the clock above the fireplace, "Well into the afternoon, now answer the question."

"For your information I was referring to the twin Romulan homeworlds from Star Trek," Remus replied while staring down at his goddaughter with a triumphant glimmer in his tired eyes.

"Like it matters," Lyla scoffed, "The Romulans conquered the Remans later anyway. And I'm fairly certain that the concept of those names originated from Roman myths anyway."

"Always have to have the last word," Remus muttered to himself, rolling his eyes at his argumentative goddaughter. She definitely had her parents' personalities, combining the best from both resulting in the talented young witch who was at the moment staring up at him with a cheeky smile adorning her face.

"Of course I have to have the last word. I wouldn't be me if I just let you win," Lyla said as though it were the most obvious thing in the Wizarding world, which to be fair probably was to anyone who actually met the mischievous thirteen year old.

Remus shot a questioning look down at Lyla, "But I didn't win..."

"And that's the beauty of it all now in't?" Lyla laughed as she sat up and moved away from the mildly glaring Remy.

Remus huffed as he laid his head against the back of the couch. "Is there any particular reason you've come to bother me this day?" he asked with his eyes still closed.

"You didn't seriously expect I'd leave you alone, on Christmas of all days, did you?" Lyla inquired, raising an eyebrow in question.

Remus sighed, "No I didn't expect you would...it was more of a wishful thinking actually."

Lyla rolled her eyes, "I'm ignoring that last statement because I do believe there are presents still waiting to be exchanged, although I do love our little bouts of banter."

Remus shook his head with a smile on his face as he retrieved Lyla's gift from a side table near the couch and handed it to her, taking his from her as well. He waited until Lyla had opened her gift before even looking at his, for he wanted to see the look on her face at what he had gotten for her.

Lyla tore the Gryffindor themed wrapping paper from the oddly shaped package, smiling in shock at the sight of something she had been desperately missing since departing the muggle world for the Wizarding one.

There were two items in the parcel, which explained the odd shape. The first was a book on Shakespeare—history, plays, insults and other such things that would come in handy when speaking with Sir Cadogan. Lyla bypassed that completely however, barely even glancing at it as she snatched up the bright blue bag containing her all time favorite hard candy: Jolly Ranchers.

As great as Honeydukes Sweetshop was, none of their sweets could ever compare to the muggle treat. Lyla ripped open the bag to find to her utmost delight that there was only blue raspberry's in the bag—her favorite flavor. Hugging the bag to her chest, Lyla smiled and repeatedly thanked her godfather for her gifts.

Remus smiled knowing that his goddaughter would love his gift. He chuckled to himself as she popped one in her mouth offering him one as well to which he turned down, as he slowly unwrapped his gift.

Lyla sat, savoring the taste of the hard candy, watching her godfather's eyes light up at the sight of his gift. While last at Hogsmeade, Lyla had purchased a block-o-choco for Remy, knowing he loves the stuff, which was probably the reason she had such an obsession for chocolate as well. The second item in the package was the new _Creatures of Darkness_ book she thought he'd enjoy. 'Nothing like a creature feature to bring out the holiday spirit in someone,' she had reasoned with Oliver when she picked it out.

The two of them fell into a comfortable silence as they enjoyed the rest of the afternoon in each others company. Remus was reading over his new 'Creature Feature' while Lyla looked up Shakespearean insults to use on Snape.

She had quite a list by the time the evening Christmas Feast came around. Remus had of course turned a blind eye to her scheming, smiling as he yet again saw the characteristics and personality of his old friend in her.

When it was time to head down to the Great Hall later that night, Lyla rose to head on down with her guardian but Remus hadn't moved an inch. "Aren't you coming down?" Lyla asked in confusion.

Remus sighed, looking up from the book he had received from her, "I'm afraid I'm feeling a bit under the weather again. I'll just stay here and have a quiet meal in my quarters."

"But...but its Christmas. You can't spend _any_ of it alone. It's like a sin to do so!" Lyla exclaimed, shocked that he was even thinking of not joining everyone down in the Great Hall. "If you don't go down, I won't either. I'll just spend dinner with you," she said with a wide bright smile.

Remus laughed weakly, the impending full moon was taking its toll on him and Lyla understood this. But still the thought of Remus being left all alone to suffer through the symptoms of his lycanthropy did not sit well with Lyla. Remus however, didn't want his goddaughter to miss out on her first Christmas feast at Hogwarts and sent her on her way, reassuring her—a numerous amount of times—that he would be just fine.

With much reluctance on her part, Lyla sulkily made her way back to Gryffindor Tower to drop her things off before redirecting her route towards the festively festooned Great Hall. Since there were so few students who elected to remain at Hogwarts, only one table was required and it was neatly set for 12 when Lyla arrived, having been the last one to do so.

Dumbledore was of course seated as the Head of the table with McGonagall to his right and Snape on his left. Lyla got a kick out of thinking of her Head of House being chosen as Dumbledore's right hand man over the truculent Snape. Filch had seated himself by Snape and Lyla was eager to note that both were looking as cadaverous as ever.

Professor's Flitwick and Sprout were merrily chatting with each other and greeted Lyla from the other side of the table as she walked by Harry, Ron and Hermione to sit in the vacant seat between McGonagall and her brother. Besides her and her fellow three Gryffindors only two other students were present and neither looked happy about being there.

"It's about time you showed up, sis. What did you do, get lost on the way?" asked Harry, in an attempt to keep his voice down but unfortunately Snape had particularly good hearing.

He threw Lyla a withering look after listening in on Harry's question, obviously thinking back upon their encounter the day before, "No, I didn't get lost. I was just up visiting Remy and kind of lost track of the time, while we were arguing over whether I should just come down here or keep him company." Lyla answered smirking across the table at Snape.

"Well, _I_ for one am ever-so...pleased...you decided to _grace_ us all with your presence after all. To think...you _almost_ had me worried you wouldn't show..." Snape drawled out, his words laced with sarcasm and an almost wistful look was painted upon his countenance.

McGonagall rolled her eyes at Snape's comment and smirked as Lyla opened her mouth to snap back with what would most likely be a quite humorous retort. However, she never got her chance to put Snape back in his place for Dumbledore spoke up before any argument could take place.

"Crackers!" he said excitedly, turning to Snape in hopes of getting the glowering Potion Master to pull on the noisemaker.

Snape didn't disappoint, although he wanted to. A loud bang rang through the Great Hall, showering everyone with tinsel as the cracker broke open revealing a hat, oddly resembling the very same Boggart Snape had been witnessed donning earlier that year.

Lyla snickered at the sight of the vulture-like hat, remembering back to that glorious day. She smiled at Dumbledore as he swapped his own hat for the more festive cracker one. He was eccentric there was no doubt about that, but Lyla wouldn't want him any other way.

Everyone tucked in to the wonderfully delicious meal that was set before them, talking idly amongst themselves. Lyla herself had been enjoying some tasty garlic mashed potatoes when the door to the Great Hall slowly creaked open to reveal the bug-eyed phony herself: Professor Trelawney.

Dumbledore happily rose to greet her, but Lyla just groaned along with her brother. The twins were making it quite obvious that they detested the idea of spending more time than was truly necessary with the loony teacher. If asked Lyla knew she'd rather spend more time with Snape than that crazy coot; Snape was funny when he was mad anyway and Lyla did seem to have a knack for getting him brassed-off.

The Headmaster magicked a chair between Snape and himself for Trelawney, and the exasperated look Snape threw at Dumbledore caused Lyla to choke on her cider in laughter. Apparently Snape didn't appreciate her being there either let alone sitting right next to him although if once again given the choice he'd most likely choose Lyla over Trelawney; the girl was more in her right state of mind than the crazy old bat anyways.

Lyla went back to her meal as Dumbledore motioned for Trelawney to take a seat but she was once again interrupted by her Divination teacher who gave a shriek or horror. "I dare not sit, Headmaster!" she managed to get out as she backed away from the table slightly.

Curious as to what was so terrifying, Lyla gazed around the table but she couldn't find anything remotely daunting. Unless of course you considered having to sit next to Snape a dreadfully petrifying experience, which Lyla completely sympathized with. She wouldn't want to sit next to him either; he wasn't exactly the most amicable of persons one could find.

However, it wasn't the thought of having to sit next to the sour faced Potions Professor that had Trelawney so startled. "If I join the table, we shall be thirteen!" she said shrilly, "Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forgot that when thirteen sit down to dine, the first to rise shall be the first to die!"

'Triskaidekaphobia much...' Lyla thought to herself as McGonagall snippily told the crazy old hippie to sit and she did so albeit reluctantly, her eyes shut tightly as though waiting for something catastrophic to happen. Nothing did happen, besides Lyla rolling her eyes as Trelawney went on to ask where her godfather was, although she hadn't directed the question towards Lyla herself. And Lyla doubted the oblivious 'constantly-off-in-her-own-world' Professor even knew of their connection to each other.

Dumbledore explained that Remy had fallen ill once again to which McGonagall—who was speaking her mind to the point of reading Lyla's—replied with, "But surely you already knew that, Sibyll?"

"Certainly I knew, Minerva," she replied in that mystified voice of hers that sounded like she had a permanently stuffed up nose. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing." Lyla snorted in disbelief that Trelawney really seemed to think so highly of herself.

"All-Knowing? Seriously doubt that. I for one would settle for you being somewhat knowledgeable to anything even slightly resembling being clairvoyantly inclined instead of acting like some maniacal side show palm reader." Lyla muttered a bit too loudly, earning a slight glare from her bug-eyed hippie of a teacher and, unless her eyes were deceiving her, Snape was out rightly smirking at Trelawney's misfortune clearly amused by Lyla's comment.

Trelawney, although coloring slightly at Lyla's words—knowing them to be true, didn't dignify what Lyla had said with a reply. Instead she continued on where she had left off, "I frequently act as though I were not possessed of the Inner eye, so as not to make others nervous."

"That certainly explains a great deal," McGonagall and Lyla said in perfect harmony earning a dark look from Trelawney who had just caught on to the fact that she was being mocked not only by one of her students, but by a colleague as well.

She narrowed her eyes at the two across from her but otherwise ignored Lyla and directly addressed McGonagall, "If you must know Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long."

"Really?" Lyla asked in what—to Trelawney—seemed to be sincere curiosity. Professor Trelawney nodded with a pleased smile on her face that she had finally managed to convince Lyla of her abilities. Snape and McGonagall however, knew better.

"Did you happen to come to that conclusion based on the fact that he teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts and that no Professor teaching that subject lasts more than one year around here?" Lyla said smirking, loving the fact that she had yet to get scolded for speaking her mind. Her little comment, which was like a huge slap in the face to Trelawney, earned her a cold look from her Divination professor.

Trelawney carried on with what she had been saying before Lyla decided to take another jab at her capabilities. "He seems aware himself," she said haughtily, "that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him—"

"Imagine that," McGonagall spat out wryly before Lyla could have the chance to. It was at that moment that Dumbledore decided he should ease the gradually growing tensions that were building. McGonagall and Lyla managed to contain themselves from goading Trelawney into further hysterics and Professor Trelawney, herself, was marginally able to behave normally throughout the rest of dinner up until the end that is.

Lyla ate her fill and was quite anxious to get back to her dormitory to further prepare her plans for world domination, conquering one potions class at a time...or otherwise known as making Snape's life hell. She rose from her seat, Harry and Ron following suit, but they didn't get very far as Trelawney let out yet another horror-filled shriek.

"My dears! Which of you left their seat first? Which?" She inquired urgently. The three Gryffindors shrugged, Harry and Ron in uneasiness and Lyla in an annoyed indifference at being delayed from leaving.

"I highly doubt it will make much of a difference," McGonagall cut in, "Unless of course a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the entrance hall."

Trelawney looked very angry and offended at McGonagall's jibe, as she desperately tried to get answers out of the three Gryffindors who were doing their best to flee from her. "Why don't you use your Inner Eye to find the answer?" Lyla said with a laugh as she followed behind her brother and Ron.

She had barely made it into the entrance hall however when the two boys in front of her let out high pitched screams and scrambled to hide behind her. The situation would have called for Lyla to burst out laughing at the irony of it all. Two boys, who were much taller and more than likely, stronger than her, were using her as a shield...The thought was laugh worthy at best, but the trembling forms of Harry and Ron suggested she keep her snickering to a minimum, at least until she uncovered the reason for their frightened state.

Lyla turned to face the entrance hall once more and found her answer. The figure was familiar and Lyla eventually realized why. Standing in the middle of the entrance hall was none other than...

140


	18. Chapter 18

The screams of the two boys rang through the doors of the Great Hall and echoed around the room

- Chapter 18 -

Not A Mad Axe-Man, But Close Enough

As the three children walked off out of the Great Hall, McGonagall and the rest of the teachers _tried_ to go back to their meals, but weren't having much luck with that. Trelawney was obstinately insisting that the children were in grave danger—specifically Harry since his 'doom' was swiftly approaching anyway—despite the fact that Lyla had been the first to rise.

"Will you calm yourself?" McGonagall snapped at Trelawney, having had far more than she could stand of the eccentric teacher's ramblings.

"But...what if something is out there, lying in wait, poised and ready to attack? What if it's a Death Eater?!" she shrieked in horror, to which Minerva let out a snort that was highly uncharacteristic of her.

"I highly doubt any death eater would be sufficiently skilled enough to break into Hogwarts undetected," Snape chimed in before taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. Unexpectedly the screams of the children rang through the still partially opened doors of the Great Hall and echoed around the room. The startling noise caused Snape to jump in surprise, spilling his drink down the front of him and spewing what little he had in his mouth out in a violent coughing fit.

Trelawney let out another shriek of terror and fainted right there at the table. She fell sideways until she was almost completely lying on Snape, dependant on him to keep her from tumbling to the floor.

No matter how much Snape would have just loved to let the old hippie fall, he couldn't for Dumbledore had requested that he take care of Trelawney. Needless to say, that didn't go over well with the Potions Master, but he nodded his consent all the same—a dark murderous look adorned on his face as he glared with much distaste at the 'unconscious' form of Trelawney.

Dumbledore, McGonagall and Filch raced through the doors of the Great Hall and into the entrance hall, with young Miss Granger straggling along behind them. Harry and Ron were hiding behind Lyla who was glaring suspiciously at the reason behind the boys' screams. And they did have quite a valid reason for screaming.

There in the middle of the entrance hall stood none other than Lucius Malfoy himself. "Minerva," said Dumbledore, a look of humored surprise on his face, "Remind me to give Sibyll a bonus for this year."

Minerva nodded her head, quite taken aback herself, and said, "Of course, Headmaster." While Dumbledore walked by Lyla and the boys to greet their guest.

"Lucius! It's nice to see you. I trust your trip went well?" Dumbledore asked, being his usual amicable self.

Lyla's theory was correct, the man before her was a Malfoy. "Not quite a mad-axe man, but close enough," Lyla muttered loudly to herself as she laughed at her brother's and Ron's flushed faces. She had instantly recognized the man before her as a Malfoy but wanted confirmation before saying anything. Though from all that she's heard, her comment would have been quite accurate.

Although greatly confused by what this Gryffindor girl was implying with that remark, Lucius ignored whoever she was and returned Albus' greeting. "It's _spectacular_ to see you're in good health, Dumbledore," Lucius drawled out, not meaning what he'd said but that had apparently gone unnoticed by everyone that wasn't Lyla.

She had picked up on the disdain in his voice. And to her it sounded as though he'd rather nothing about sweet old Dumbledore's health was in positive condition. But Lyla didn't say anything about that, no matter how much she may have wanted to. She kept her mouth shut and stood there with her brother and his friends as their Professor's greeted the elder Malfoy.

"May I inquire Lucius, as to why you are here?" Dumbledore said, taking the question right out of Lyla's mouth. Why would that slimy old Slytherin be here? What right did he have to show his face there after what he'd done the previous year?

"Of course, Headmaster," Lucius replied. He answered but it was apparent to everyone that he was pulling his answer right out of his derrière. "I was concerned about the security of the school and the safety of my son and his classmates.

"Given the events of last year, the fact that Sirius Black is still unaccounted for, and the tragedy that involved my son early this school year, it shouldn't come as that much of a surprise to you that I decided to make a visit to Hogwarts to check up on the security of this fine teaching establishment you're running."

Lyla raised a disbelieving eyebrow at his reply. He was speaking like he had never gone to Hogwarts. For 7 years of his adolescent life, Hogwarts was his home so he couldn't make her believe that it wasn't.

"Well then how about you take a look around and give me your conclusion on everything you see that doesn't meet your approval," Dumbledore stated spiritedly.

His eyes seemed to sparkle even more as a thought that came to mind and automatically came spilling out of his mouth. "In fact, I'll send a student along with you..." he trailed off while turning towards the three Gryffindors who were all trying to make a break for it.

"Lyla," Dumbledore called up the staircase halting the young girl's escape. Lyla cringed as she readied herself for what she knew would be coming. He was going to make _her_ be Mr. Malfoy's personal tour guide and she didn't like that one bit.

"Yes Headmaster?" Lyla asked warily as she slowly turned to face her impending doom.

Dumbledore smiled at Lyla's hesitancy making Lyla conclude that all the cool teachers were keen on making life difficult for her. "Would you be a dear and show Mr. Malfoy around for me?"

Lyla pouted, clearly showing her discontent at her Headmaster's request. "Is this my punishment for poking fun at Trelawney?"

"Of course not, Miss Potter," Dumbledore stated elatedly, obviously quite pleased with himself for some reason unknown to everyone else. Lyla quickly noted the look of interest on the elder Malfoy's face at the mention of her surname before tuning back in to what her Headmaster was saying.

"I was simply making a request. You don't have to accept if you wish not to..." Dumbledore trailed off only to speak up once more when Lyla had started to quickly walk away again, hoping to make her getaway before he changed his mind. "However," he said slowly, stopping Lyla in her tracks once again, "I would be entirely grateful if you did. You see in my old age it's becoming increasingly more difficult for me to scale the many grand staircases of Hogwarts. I become fatigued easily and wouldn't be able to give Mr. Malfoy here the tour he _deserves_."

Lyla stared at her Headmaster in disbelief. He was trying to guilt her into agreeing. Using one of her own tricks against her and she wasn't about to fall for it. After all there were other people there who were more qualified for the job than her.

"With all do respect Headmaster; I understand that you're not as young as you used to be but surely there is someone around who would be better suited for this task...like Professor Snape for instance."

Dumbledore smiled gently and replied in that ever calm voice of his with, "Professor Snape is otherwise preoccupied at the moment." It was then that Lyla noticed that the one person who she would have thought to be the first out into the entrance hall—to witness her demise—wasn't there.

Glancing back through the wide open double doors and into the Great Hall, Lyla searched for her M.I.A. Potions Professor. She was quite unprepared for the sight that met her wandering eyes and failed miserably at stifling her snickers. Trelawney was sprawled out nearly completely on top of a murderous looking Snape.

Snape had turned to glare out the doors at Lyla, having heard the familiar sound of her laughing and assumed quite correctly that it was directed at him and his predicament. He didn't take well to being laughed at. Unfortunately though, he could do nothing more than glare for he had to 'take care' of the bubbleheaded old bint.

Lyla's laughter at Snape's misfortune subsided as a thought came to her mind that she just had to point out. "You think she fainted from coming so close to almost being right? I mean...it can't have happened very often so it's got to come as a bit of a shock that it happened at all," Lyla said, speaking to no one in particular, just idly pondering aloud.

At the astounded faces of her brother and everyone else Lyla replaced her pondering expression with one of mischievous innocence. "What?" she asked, a smile slowly spreading across her features. "I'm just saying what everyone else is so obviously thinking," she stated matter-of-factly not missing the amused look McGonagall shot at Dumbledore that said she did in fact have a point.

Dumbledore let a small chuckle out before getting back to the subject at hand. "Will you show Mr. Malfoy around for me Lyla?" he asked softly.

Lyla groaned quietly and asked, "I still don't understand why it has to be me. Is it truly necessary to make Snape suffer just because Trelawney can't handle her eggnog?"

"I believe you are well suited to show Mr. Malfoy around, better suited than anyone else in my opinion. I can trust you to be open about your opinions, giving your unbiased view and all to give him the tour that he _ought to have_." Dumbledore said putting special emphasis on those last words, trying to relay a silent message to the troublesome Gryffindor.

Lyla could have sworn she saw Dumbledore wink at her when he said this. His words then resounded around in her mind: 'Give him the tour he deserves...that he ought to have.' Lyla smirked, getting the message loud and clear. She knew she liked Dumbledore for a reason.

She nodded her head in consent. It wasn't as though she had anything better to do anyway. She'd give him the tour he was deserving of alright. Nothing was going to be held back. Now was the perfect opportunity to say all that she had wanted to and she wasn't about to hold anything back—especially after basically being ask by Dumbledore himself to do her worst. And although Malfoy would more than likely have more to complain about after she was finished, she knew it'd be worth it.

Dumbledore, having gotten his way once again, led his staff back into the Great Hall, Miss Granger following along as well, leaving the three Gryffindors and their sworn enemy's father in the Entrance hall. "Shall we?"

Lucius nodded his head and followed Lyla passed her glaring brother who reached out and pulled her aside for a word. "I don't like this Lyla," he said firmly.

His words and not to mention his tone, caused Lyla to laugh, "Don't worry so much. This is me we're talking about; I can handle myself just fine. Besides if he tries anything, I have no qualms about hexing him."

Lyla walked off up the stairs with Lucius following along side her leaving a still anxious and quite troubled Harry behind. Although he had no doubt she'd make good on that hexing promise, Harry was still concerned for her safety. He didn't know how the elder Malfoy would take to Lyla's attitude and all around way of acting. What if he retaliated with something much worse than she could deal with?

Ron, sensing his friend's uneasiness, patted Harry on the back and said, "Don't worry Harry, if he tries anything he'll have one incredibly brassed-off Lyla to deal with." The boys made their way up to Gryffindor tower, taking an entirely different path than Lyla and Mr. Malfoy, knowing she'd be upset if they followed, thinking they thought she needed protection and couldn't handle things just fine on her own.

However, while that may have been true and all, Lyla wouldn't have minded had they decided to tag along. At least then she would have had some form of conversation instead of the deafening silence that was all around her. Malfoy's father had yet to say a word to her and it was starting to unnerve her. They had already been through more than half the castle and yet he hadn't spoken one word to her yet. Not only that but he was...staring at her.

Not full on gawking but there were some definite stretches where she could have sworn out of the corner of her eye she could see him watching her, and to her it seemed as though he wasn't even blinking. As though contemplating what he thought of her. Or more likely comparing all his son had most likely told him.

"So tell me, Miss Potter," Lucius spoke up suddenly, causing Lyla to jump, having been too preoccupied in her own thoughts to notice when he made to say something. "Are you liking Hogwarts thus far?" he asked coolly, looking ahead of them as they walked.

"Uh...yeah," Lyla answered slowly with an odd look on her face, thinking his question was rather stupid. Of course she liked Hogwarts, if she didn't she would have left already that's just how she was.

"It comes up to your expectations does it?"

"Truthfully?" Lyla asked receiving a nod from Lucius, "Hogwarts is more than I had ever expected. I love it here."

"And what of your professors?" he asked quickly, "Getting along with them all?" "Famously so..." Lyla shot back just as quickly, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she wondered why he was so curious.

"That so?" he asked skeptically, not buying that Lyla had no problems with any of them. He knew for a fact that she had a problem with his dear old friend Severus but that was to be expected as very few people got along with the man. And from the earlier spectacle he deduced that he could add Trelawney to the list of professors abhorred by the Gryffindor girl.

"Yes that's so," Lyla snapped back in irritation. "Maybe not in their opinions—and know when I say _they_ I mean Snape—but other than that _I_ think we're all getting along splendidly."

"So they're all doing their jobs well?" he asked snidely. He wasn't interested at all in that. He had originally planned to visit Hogwarts in hopes of dethroning Dumbledore once more but after his son told him all about the Potter girl his objective had changed its focus to her.

He was entirely too curious about how she was even alive. True there was never any documented proof that she had been killed but he had assumed like everyone else had that she was dead.

"Yes, they're all very talented at what they teach," Lyla answered growing tired of their conversation and wanting to go back to their earlier silence.

"All of them?" Lucius pressed on.

"Is there something specific that you want to know?" Lyla asked picking up on his ulterior motives. She had hoped he would slip and say something he didn't want her to hear but unfortunately it was more difficult to trick the elder Malfoy than it was his son.

"Not at all Miss Potter," Lucius said quickly as a reflex, thankful that he had many years practice under his belt at hiding his expressions and what he was thinking, otherwise the Potter girl would have seen the surprise on his face at the fact that she had caught on so quickly. "I was just simply making conversation since the alternative is one I hear you're not too fond off."

Lyla's eyes narrowed to the point of closing entirely. How would he know what she was _fond_ of or not? She didn't like the fact that he seemed to know something she didn't, however she decided to ignore that entirely. Holding in any snide remark she may have wanted to make for a time when it would actually be more appropriate and much more deserving. And people say she has no self-control.

Sighing softly to herself, Lyla answered his last question, "All of Hogwart's professors are exceptionally skilled at what they do and deserve to be here. Well, all except that thirteen fearing phony herself in my opinion."

Lucius chuckled softly at Lyla's brutal honesty, "Yes, I expected you'd say as much. But we can't all be as gifted as you, now can we?"

"Gifted?" Lyla asked raising a suspicious eyebrow in question. What could he possibly know? Stopping in her tracks Lyla turned to face Lucius as he spoke.

He stopped as well, smiling slightly at how persistent she was. She wasn't going to let him ask all the questions and get everything he wanted without him answering some of her inquires as well. "I'm not one for idle gossip, but rumor has it you're one talented witch what with that boggart of yours and all. Simply amazing, I must say. Lupin must be so very proud..."

Lyla narrowed her eyes once more, dangerously on the verge of letting her mouth do the thinking for her. He didn't mention her boggart and Remy for nothing. He knows more than he's letting on. But how could he possibly know about Remus' condition?

Faltering in her next step, Lyla came to the conclusion that her wanker of a Potions Master must have told his dear old fellow snake all about Remy's furry little problem.

At her slightly more guarded expression and lack of response, Lucius continued on, walking back along the way they had already walked. "Could the reason you dislike your Divination professor so much, be that you feel your abilities are not being properly challenged in a class where you are obviously superior to the professor herself?"

"What are you a shrink during off-hours or something?" Lyla shot back running to catch up with his long strides. She was not feeling particularly inclined to put in the effort it would take to be nice anymore.

His fatal mistake was mentioning her godfather. She was all prepared to be polite and courteous with a little of her personality thrown in there but now she didn't feel the need to do so. Now she was going to be her whether he liked it or...well there's actually no other option there. He's just not going to like it, she'd guarantee that.

Lucius mumbled something that Lyla couldn't quite hear before speaking to the young Gryffindor, completely ignoring her question. "Let's not speak of Trelawney anymore," Lucius suggested to which Lyla nodded her concurrence.

Lucius smirked; satisfied that Lyla wasn't going to argue with him. "Let's talk about Hogwarts newest and most incompetent professor. What do you think of him?"

Lyla's eyes widened and jaw dropped; appalled that he would openly accuse Remy of being incompetent. And straight to her face no less. Remus was the only new teacher Hogwarts had that year so he was the only possible candidate. There was just no other possibility in Lyla's enraged mind.

The fiery young red head turned to face the elder Malfoy. He made the mistake of mentioning Remus once already and got off lightly in her opinion but the bastard just didn't seem to learn from his mistakes. "Remus is my godfather, what do you think I think about him?" Lyla ground out through clenched teeth. "And he's not incompetent! He happens to be the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Hogwarts has had the privilege of having in a very long while!"

Lucius looked at a loss for words, completely not seeing that outburst coming. He composed himself quickly though and calmly stated, "I was referring to that oaf Hagrid, not Professor Lupin."

Lyla flushed bright red for only a moment before bitterly muttering, "Hagrid's not an oaf," resuming her pace down the corridor. She had reached the grand staircase when Lucius caught up with her.

"I apologize if I offended you, Miss Potter," Lucius replied smoothly not meaning his words to which Lyla knew already. She just rolled her eyes, neither responding nor slowing her pace down the stairs, eager to rid herself of the infuriating leech that called himself a Malfoy.

It didn't work... "I only meant that he is unfit to teach such young and impressionable children," he stated after matching her strides down the flight of stairs. If that was supposed to placate her, it had failed in that aspect and had in fact the opposite effect.

"I'll have you know that I'm in one of the classes that Hagrid happens to teach and I don't appreciate being referred to as an impressionable child," Lyla snarled harshly, being stuck in his presence for that long was starting to annoy her and bad things happen when Lyla was annoyed...especially to those who happened to be unfortunate enough to irritate her.

"However I'm going to let that slide, along with all the other things I've been letting go. Just know that if I were in a right awful mood today, you would have gotten your arse handed to you at every one of your stupid questions," she said calmly in an angered tone, meaning every word she had said.

"But your in luck," she continued on brightly. "I happen to be having a wonderful day, that is until you showed up, but let's forget that right now. You've asked far too many questions for one night and there are some thing's that I wish to know now."

Lucius, despite his competence of keeping his astonished expressions down to a point where it's not noticeable, lost control of that capability and openly displayed his shock for Lyla to revel in. He had not expected her to say anything like that for he didn't believe his son when he'd told him of all the things she's done since arriving at Hogwarts. It was just unrealistic for one girl to cause that much trouble. He knew now that he should have checked up on her with Snape before confronting her.

He wanted to get angry at the way the Gryffindor brat had spoken to him but knew that it wouldn't have profited him any to do so. There would have been no chance of getting any information out of her then. He pulled himself together, nodding as he did so for her to ask away—what could a few questions hurt anyway?

Smirking at having, once again, gotten her way, "So tell me—" Lyla started to ask the one thing that had been nagging her since she saw Malfoy's father.

"Please, call me Lucius," he said cutting Lyla off in an attempt to get back in her good graces, even though he hadn't been there in the first place.

Lyla made a face at his suggestion. She didn't like his name in the first place so why would she call him that. "I'd rather not," she said, crinkling her nose at the thought of doing so.

"Perhaps then, Mr. Malfoy is fine..." Lucius replied, trailing off feeling rather insulted by the Potter girl's response.

She shook her head, "No, I think not...Mr. signifies that I have respect for you and I don't want to go giving you the wrong idea even more. Malfoy doesn't work either, that's what I call your son, and Lucius is just no fun at all..." Lyla trailed off in contemplation, coming to the last set of stairs and continuing idly on down them.

It didn't take very long till an idea came to Lyla's eagerly mischievous mind. Her eyes sparkled like Dumbledore's had earlier when he forced her into the situation she was currently trying to make the most of. "I know!" she said enthusiastically, "I'll call you Lucy."

"You most certainly will not!" Lucius exclaimed.

Lyla pouted, obviously 'upset' that he had not liked her nickname for him. "Why ever not?" she asked innocently, knowing exactly why but playing dumb to further anger him. "It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"I most certainly do not!" Lucius shot back quickly. Of course he didn't think so. He was on the receiving end of Lyla's humor. Being made a fool of by this child was not something the elder Malfoy would stand for let alone enjoy. Sadly though, there was very little he could do, especially when the girl had set her mind to something as entertaining as pissing him off.

"Hmm..." Lyla said in faux deliberation. "How about Lucille?" she asked receiving the answer she had expected out of the elder Malfoy as he turned down that name option as well, proceeding to repeat his answer for all of her creative names.

"Lulu?" she asked.

"No."

"Lullabell?"

"No!"

"Lucifer?" Lyla asked brightly, stepping off the last step into the entrance hall. She stood, turning to face him waiting for his response but, Lucius didn't bother to dignify her last suggestion with a reply. He simply narrowed his eyes in a what-do-you-think expression. "Awe come on," Lyla whined, "Lucifer fits your persona and, more than likely, your history perfectly!"

Lucius was on the verge of attacking Lyla, but gradually calmed himself down, thinking she couldn't possibly keep that name game of hers up for very much longer. It's unfortunate for him that he obviously didn't know Lyla that well.

"So tell me Lucy," Lyla started, smirking as she saw 'Lucy's' eye twitch, "What exactly has your son told you about me?"

"Beg pardon?" Lucius asked, wondering if he'd been that obvious. He shook that thought off; not wanting to admit to himself that he'd underestimated the girl...that she was much smarter than he'd anticipated.

"It's quite obvious that your reason for being here was a cover up of your true intentions. So let's just get to the point," Lyla said, taking a step forward to show she wasn't intimidated by him in the slightest. "You're here to meet me. And I would like to know what that brat of yours has told you. What are you here because he couldn't handle me on his own so he wanted his daddy to come fix everything?"

"My son has nothing to do with my reasons for being here," Lucius snarled out in irritation, his eyes growing hard and colder than they were before.

Lyla smirked, knowing that it infuriated him even more to see. "According to what you told dear old Dumbles, he is. Or were you just fibbing when you spoke to him?" Lyla asked, not expecting an answer and cutting Lucius off when he tried to protest her accusation, "I suppose that's believable, I mean it's not like it's the first time you've lied to Dumbledore about something."

"I'll have you know I did in fact come with the intentions I gave your Headmaster upon arriving!" Lucius snarled out, angered at Lyla's accusation. Although knowing it to be true, he wasn't about to admit to that. Especially to the one person who would undoubtedly exploit that confession to its fullest.

Lyla rolled her eyes not believing the obvious lie in the slightest. "The safety of my son and his classmates are my highest priority. Sirius Black has already broken into the castle once, what's to stop him from doing it again?" Lucius asked condescendingly, not giving Lyla the chance to cut in.

"Not only do I have to worry about that lunatic being on the loose but incompetent professors as well. The disaster involving my son this previous September was absolutely atrocious. I'm here to make sure that does not happen again."

During his speech of bullshite, Lucius had gradually gotten in Lyla's face. He was most likely trying to intimidate her into backing down in her argument but in fact gave her more ammo and desire to piss him off.

"Speaking as one of your son's classmates, I feel pretty secure here without your say," Lyla sneered right back at Lucius. "Sirius Black may very well be on the loose, somewhere nearby in fact, but as long as Dumbledore is running this school none of us will ever have anything to worry about as far as our safety goes."

Stepping closer to show that she wasn't backing down, Lyla continued on with what she was saying, finishing with a bang that was sure to anger Lucius. "And that 'disaster' that involved your son was due to his own stupidity, no one else's. If you really want to make sure something like that doesn't happen again, then go on back to your home and deflate your son's head a few good notches. I'm sure then he might be able to use that pink thing that usually rattles around in that thick skull of his."

"Why you little chit!" Lucy said in outrage, reaching out for the impertinent child. He was planning on forcing her to apologize to him but didn't get that far.

As soon as Lucius' hands were on Lyla, her wand was out and a spell was shouted. A stream of silvery white sparks flew out of the tip of her wand towards Lucius, successfully pushing him away from her. Lyla nodded obviously proud that she had gotten him off her, while Lucius patted his chest—where the sparks had hit him—checking the damage that had been done.

He didn't find any. He couldn't feel nor see any effects of the spell other than the fact that it had caused him to stumble backwards. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you are as inept as your brother," Lucius sneered, mocking her magical capabilities. "Next time you decide to cast a spell at a more skilled and powerful wizard like me, you might want to consider choosing a spell that's actually at your skill level, however low that may be."

Lyla rolled her eyes, not yet certain that her spell had completely worked. "This is not over yet Potter. Mark my words, you will regret insulting me and my family," Lucius stalked off towards the large Entrance doors and it was then that Lyla was positive her spell had gone the way she had expected it to, for there, sticking out of the top of Lucius' trousers, was a great big fluffy white tail—identical to that of his hair—swishing back and forth, waving goodbye to it's creator.

Lyla waved back at her masterpiece, "I think my spell went just fine...better than that even," she remarked snickering. Oh how she wished she could witness the look on dear old Lucy's face when he realized what she'd done.

Feeling in an entirely elated mood, Lyla turned on her heel to go inform Dumbledore of her escapades as Hogwarts tour guide. She skipped up the many staircases that led to his office, her good mood restraining her from containing herself. She had said the password to the gargoyle and jumped onto the moving spiral staircase when she gave in to the urge to burst into song. She started singing the first song that popped into her head as loud as she could and it fit surprisingly well with where she was going.

"I'm off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Hogwarts. You'll find he is a whiz of a Wiz! If ever a Wiz! There was." Lyla stepped into Dumbledore's office not skipping a beat as she continued her song, Dumbledore smiling and swinging his head from side to side in time with her song. "If ever oh ever a Wiz! There was, the Wizard of Hogwarts is one because...because because because because becaaaaauuuusssssseeee. Because of the wonderful things he does!"

Dumbledore clapped while laughing joyously. It was obvious to him that his little scheme went off without a hitch. He knew he could count on Lyla to set Mr. Malfoy straight. He listened intently as the young fiery Gryffindor retold her tale of mischief, picturing the event in his mind.

Dumbledore shook his head as Lyla finished speaking—she had purposely left out the part where she had given Lucy a tail, "It was a job well done Lyla. And I thank you for showing him around, I wasn't quite feeling up to it and it was very much appreciated that you took my place. 20 points will be awarded to Gryffindor for your selfless sacrifice of time to help your school."

Lyla smiled in shock. She had just actually _earned_ points for her House. Usually she was the one getting points docked for bad behavior. But now she was being rewarded for causing trouble? Lyla knew she liked Dumbledore for a reason.

Dumbledore dismissed her and she got up to leave. She had just made it to the door when Dumbledore called out her name. She turned; a questioning look on her face. What he had to tell her next was most unexpected but more so welcomed. She could do a lot of damage with the information he forked over just then and she was definitely planning to.

She left his office feeling in an even better mood than before. She of course didn't think it possible but she was. She skipped down heading towards the Gryffindor common room, feeling more than a little compelled to burst into song again but held it in, settling for humming instead.

It was a good thing she did to, for as she was turning a corner, she saw Hermione talking to Professor McGonagall. Now Lyla didn't know what possessed her to hide but she was glad she did. "Was there something you wished to tell me Miss Granger? Is everything alright with your studies?" Professor McGonagall asked stopping to turn towards Hermione who had most likely been beating around the bush.

"Everything's fine, really Professor. My time turner has been most helpful in getting to all my classes on time," Hermione replied, going on to say something about Harry and his firebolt but by then Lyla had stopped listening.

A time turner? That explains Hermione's suspicious behavior. Lyla smirked as she turned and walked away, planning on getting a good night's rest so she could put her newly developed scheme into motion. She needed help with her other extra studies and after Lyla explained why it would be beneficial for Hermione to go along with her plan, she'd be all set. There was no way Hermione could refuse. Not when Lyla now knew what it was she's been hiding.

150


	19. Chapter 19

When people say "Expect the unexpected," doesn't that mean the unexpected is expected

- Chapter 19 -

Unveiled Secrets

Lyla smirked upon entering the library. For the second day in a row, Hermione was there, hiding from Harry and Ron. She had been the driving force behind the confiscation of Harry's firebolt and for that reason the boys weren't speaking to her. A stupid reason to be avoiding your friends—in Lyla's opinion—even if they were acting like juvenile little wankers.

Skipping over to Hermione's table in the farthest corner of the library, Lyla smiled—most definitely up to something. "Morning 'Mione, mind if I join you?" she asked cheerfully causing the bushy haired Gryffindor to look up in genuine surprise that soon turned to suspicion.

She had every right to be wary too. She and Lyla had never seen eye to eye on anything thus far. Hell they couldn't even stand each other, so what exactly was Lyla up to and why was she dragging Hermione into it?

Despite her hesitations, and far past opposing her better judgment, Hermione nodded her head, signaling that it was alright with her if Lyla joined her. What's the worst that could happen after all? It really is quite pathetic that none have caught on to the fact that nothing good ever follows after that question, especially when Lyla's involved.

Lyla sat down across from Hermione, setting her bag down beside her on the table. She leafed through a few of the things she had brought with her. And noted, quite pleased with herself, that every book title that crossed into Hermione's vision caused the girl to pale slightly.

Lyla had spent the previous day checking out books on magical objects, time travel and other such useful books just so she could subtly show Hermione that she'd figured her little secret out. That appeared to be working quite well in fact.

Opening one of her books to a random page Lyla pretended to read, making sounds of interest and surprise as she did so. She was satisfied to see Hermione looking nervous and quite paler than usual. She was shuffling in her seat, barely notable to anyone that wasn't specifically looking for the movement.

Lyla decided to let her fellow Gryffindor come to her own conclusions and quickly excused herself on the grounds of needing another book. Of course she didn't actually intend on doing that though. Sure she disappeared out of Hermione's line of vision but she didn't go any farther than the other side of a rather large bookcase.

Peeking through an opened space on a shelf where a few books used to be, Lyla smirked as she saw Hermione literally lunge for the book she had picked out the previous day entitled Magical Objects of the Wizarding World. Lyla had bookmarked the page on time turners and left Hermione a note, anticipating the girl's actions ahead of time.

It was fairly simple to discern from Hermione's expression that the girl was worried beyond explanation. Forehead crinkled in concentration as she read over what Lyla had written. Chewing on her bottom lip as she contemplated exactly how she was going to get herself out of this mess.

Little by little however, Hermione grew from worried to angry. An emotion Lyla was known to be very talented in stirring in others. She skipped on back over to where her things were, humming a random Christmas song along the way. She had done so loudly to give Hermione fair warning that she was returning but the girl didn't even bother to hide the fact that she had been snooping.

She just sat there, eyes narrowed as Lyla sat herself back down in her seat and proceeded to seemingly ignore Hermione altogether. This did not sit well with Hermione however. She tried many methods of getting someone's attention but each one went purposefully unnoticed by Lyla.

Hermione cleared her throat several times but Lyla gave no response. She even tried shuffling back and forth in her seat and slamming her books shut multiple times but Lyla gave no indication of being aware of anything. Of course she was very much aware of Hermione's failed attempts and was overall highly amused by them.

Hermione let out a loud huff full of agitation and Lyla took that as her cue to look up as though just realizing her fellow Gryffindor was trying to speak to her. She had wanted to torture Hermione further but decided to put her out of her misery...if only for a little while.

"Problem?" she asked trying to look as innocently unaware as possible. She would have succeeded with that too, if she could have held back that knowing smirk that overcame her expression.

"Don't you dare try to act all innocent with me right now," Hermione commanded brusquely. "I'm in no mood for your games. Just tell me what you want."

"Well when you put it so nicely," Lyla began cheekily, receiving only a heated glare in return. She reached over and opened the book she had purposely stuck the paper with her notes in earlier, suddenly growing serious.

"I know you don't like me very much," Lyla started, forcing herself to bite her tongue and not say anything when Hermione rolled her eyes. "And quite frankly you're not exactly number one on my favorite persons list either. But truthfully, I don't want to give you a hard time about all this..."

Hermione was surprised at Lyla's confession but knew well enough to stay guarded. There was just no possible way that Lyla wasn't up to something. It was Lyla for crying out loud. The girl who always had something up her sleeves...who was always scheming about one thing or another.

Knowing this didn't help to calm Hermione as she prepared herself for what was about to come. Lyla had paused after her last statement, purely for dramatic effect. Letting her words sink into Hermione's head before knocking her right back into reality.

She leaned forward, towards Hermione, maintaining eye contact the whole time. "But that doesn't mean I wont." Lyla said firmly, a dangerously serious glint reflecting in her eyes as she spoke, sending her message loud and clear that she wouldn't hesitate to do whatever it took to get what she wanted.

Hermione's mouth dropped open in surprise. She'd never seen Lyla like this before. Never been on the receiving end of any of the girl's plots and she was definitely not enjoying the position she was being put in. She felt as though she was being forced into a corner where there was no chance of escape for she was still utterly clueless as to what Lyla wanted. It was hopeless to do anything when she was so helpless.

Hermione made no move to say anything so Lyla did. "I haven't told anyone what I know yet and I won't," she said causing Hermione to sigh in relief for that was what she was most anxious about. However her relief was brief and short-lived. "As long as you cooperate that is."

Lyla sat back in her chair and waited for Hermione to come to a decision. In all honesty, she really hadn't intended upon being so...cruel...about the whole situation. She had in fact planned on going about things nicely. But then Hermione had to go all bloody snippy on her...though she supposed she was, in part, to blame for that but she wasn't about to admit that.

A plethora of emotions ran through Hermione as she thought about what she would do. Though the main one, that stuck out the most, especially in her facial expression, was her anger. She was outraged that Lyla was basically blackmailing her. But she was even more infuriated by that fact that she could do nothing about it. It wasn't as though she could tell Lyla to leave her alone and mind her own business. That would just prove more disastrous for her.

No one was supposed to know about her time turner. She was entrusted to keep it a secret and one person finding out was bad enough but three people? Hermione highly doubted McGonagall would be happy about that. So it appeared...she really did have no choice but to give in. She nodded sullenly, hating the fact that she had to do whatever it was Lyla wanted. "What do you want?"

"Well from the way I see it, we can both benefit from this situation." Hermione shoots a very Lyla-like expression of skepticism at Lyla and she really couldn't blame her for that either... taking into account the fact that she was in a sense blackmailing her and all. "I don't blame you for finding that highly unlikely and if it were any other situation it probably would be. But it's not in this case so just hear me out, ok?"

Hermione, though still not believing there to be any way possible for her to profit from this, nodded for Lyla to go on. "You probably don't know this but when I first learned about the existence of magic and the new school I'd inevitably be attending, I wanted to take as many classes as I could. But that, as you know, is not exactly a probable possibility unless you have connections like you so obviously do."

"Would you just get to the point already?" Hermione asked having lost her patience a while back.

"I still want to take those classes and learn all that you're learning," Lyla stated, ignoring Hermione's little outburst. "I even tried teaching myself. Researching the material being taught on my own through various other sources, but..." Lyla paused, knowing full well she was beating around the bush, but she couldn't help that. She never did like admitting the need for help if she could prevent it.

She thought out her words carefully, making sure to get her message across while steering clear of the word help at all costs. "I may...require...some assistance." At Hermione's blank stare Lyla continued on, "I want you to let me copy your notes for the classes I don't have the time to take."

Hermione, outraged at the prospect of having to agree to such an atrocious crime, opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it. "Excuse me if I'm a little skeptical that this is profitable for me also. So far, from what I've heard, this little scheme of yours is only beneficial for you."

"I was getting to that part," Lyla said dryly not liking Hermione's tone in the slightest. "When classes resume again next week I would like you to focus solely on the classes I can't take so that you won't have to be running all over the school everyday. Don't worry; I'll be keeping notes for you in our other classes as well. We can even take turns if you like...Essentially I'll be helping you carry the workload. I can help if only you'd give me the chance."

Lyla knew Hermione wanted to argue and more than likely would have too. That is, if she had any semblance of choice in the situation, but she didn't. The thought of what Lyla could do with a time turner was just too horrible for Hermione to imagine. She wanted to say no to the whole thing but knew it was hopeless. All she could do was acquiesce and hope nothing too terrible happened.

Hermione nodded reluctantly, "Let's get started then," she said, getting her notes out and handing them over to the one person she detested more than Malfoy. Her opinion and loathing of Lyla had no likelihood of surviving however.

The two Gryffindor girls spent the rest of that week in the library together. They had to learn to get along and being forced into that situation they adapted quite well. Although for the most part, there was hardly anything said between the two that was even remotely not related to their schoolwork. Hermione would study and finish her homework, speaking to Lyla only when necessary, while Lyla caught up on what she'd missed of the classes she couldn't take.

No one came into the library all week so the two girls accomplished much work. The study sessions were dead silent in the library. The loudest noise was of the random flipping of pages in a textbook. Hermione would occasionally quiz Lyla on some material but apart from that no other words were spoken between the two.

By the middle of the week Lyla felt she was caught up to the point where she'd be able to teach herself again. So for the rest of the week she pretended to study whereas she was actually looking up rituals for becoming an animagus. Although even in the restricted area, there wasn't much information.

Aside from Lyla's frustrations from the lack of information available to her, things went smoothly the rest of that week. No arguments arose between her and Hermione. But it wasn't until the end of the week that their relationship actually turned openly pleasant.

On Saturday, the last day of the winter hols, Lyla was found once again in her little corner of the library, curled comfortably into a squishy chair, with a notebook in her lap. She was writing a list of New Years resolutions, quietly humming to herself. She was entirely enthralled with the task when a loud crash of the library doors reached her ears.

She heard Madam Pince, who thought highly of Lyla, screeching at the cause of the commotion. Lyla snickered as Hermione's rushed apologies were thrown about before she was heard shuffling towards Lyla's sanctuary.

Lyla quickly hid her notebook in the massive pile beside her, pulled out a tome of Ancient Runes and pretended to read, "You know, 'Mione…" Lyla started, not bothering to glance up at the bushy haired girl as she spoke. "Dear ol' Pincey is never going to like you if you keep causing such a ruckus in her library," she said mockingly. Lyla loved the fact that while most of the time it was in some part her own fault, Pince absolutely adored her and abhorred Hermione.

"I know," Hermione sighed, slumping into a nearby chair that was void of books. "I still have no clue why she likes you so much, when I'm clearly the better-behaved one."

Lyla smirked, "Me neither," she agreed despite knowing otherwise.

Hermione caught sight of Lyla's smirk and couldn't help the shocked expression that crossed her face. "You liar! You do too know!" Hermione demanded the truth and Lyla, having been caught saw fit to deliver said 'truth'.

"Alright I'll tell you, since you're so persistent. It all started earlier this school year," Lyla said, gazing off, as though envisioning all she was saying, "I was in the library, of course, introducing myself to the librarian, like any decent new student would." Hermione rolled her eyes at this knowing that wasn't the reason Lyla had been introducing herself.

"So there I was, minding my own business and all," like that ever happens, "trying to have a pleasant conversation with Madam Pince—who was glaring at me for one reason or another—when out of nowhere, these rabid Slytherin first years come rushing about, screeching like a bunch of banshees about nothing in particular and just acting like the pack of wild animals they were."

Ok, so maybe Lyla was embellishing a bit but they were acting rather unruly... "Will you just get on with it already?" Hermione asked, having found that she could not be patient with Lyla no matter how hard she tried.

"I'm getting to it..." Lyla huffed. "Now mind you I was in the middle of saying something when they barged in like that, so like any normal person would do under these circumstances, I turned around and—"

"Made every single one of them cry, did you?" Hermione suggested and she was not far from the truth on that one.

"You really think they all cried?" Lyla asked smiling proudly, loving the prospect of having been the one to cause that. Hermione shot Lyla a look that swiped her grin clean off her face. "Ok not funny..." Lyla muttered, avoiding eye contact from what she felt was the lecturing gaze of Hermione.

"But seriously, I did yell at them and in so doing made them see the error of their ways and make sure to remember the consequences of ever crossing my path again." Lyla gazed off again somewhere past Hermione as though reliving the moment over again.

However, she came back to her senses soon after, shaking her head to get back into her story, "They all left soon after that and when I turned around to continue my conversation with Pincey, she was no longer scowling but smiling at me...seems she admired me telling off those 'noisy brats', as she called them."

Lyla was proud of her accomplishment, having no sympathy whatsoever for the Slytherin first years she more than likely caused permanent emotional scarring to. Hermione however was not on the same wave length and could not for the life of her see what was so great about scaring a bunch of eleven year-olds.

This was more than likely the source of why Lyla had so much trouble getting along with Hermione...the girl was born without a sense of humor. Hermione just sat there wearing a blank expression on her face while Lyla snickered at the jovial memory.

Minutes went creeping by and nothing changed. Hermione didn't say anything and Lyla was content in going back to her 'reading,' although she'd be much happier if Hermione would take a hint and leave already so she could get back to a more pressing matter.

Lyla didn't notice that Hermione was watching her and if she had, she might have found it a little odd. She may have been a little suspicious for Hermione had a look on her face that mirrored Lyla's own when she was up to something or waiting for some specific event to occur.

Not glancing up from her reading, Lyla reached over a pile of books and grabbed the glass of water she'd brought with her. She had just taken a mouthful when Hermione thought it appropriate to speak again. "What did you do to the twins' gifts?"

Lyla choked at her question, sputtering for breath as the cool liquid went down the wrong pipe. She didn't have to ask if she'd heard Hermione correctly, for the smirk on the girl's face was answer enough. Answering directly was out of the question for this was Lyla. She'd never give anyone a straight answer if she could help it.

However, playing dumb wouldn't work either for she had already physically shown that she had in fact done something. "What do you mean?" she asked anyway, not one to give in until she was truly stuck in a corner and by no other means was there another way out.

Hermione didn't answer. She just stared at Lyla incredulously until the girl's defenses gave way and she answered. "I may have put a small timed jinx on their presents..." Lyla replied in a small voice, not making eye contact and basically looking like a small child who had been caught doing something it shouldn't have been.

"A small jinx?" Hermione exclaimed, "Now that's an understatement if ever I heard one! The whole house was in an absolute uproar because of your 'small jinx!'"

"It was harmless really and wouldn't have even taken effect if they'd not triggered it..." Lyla trailed off. She knew full well they'd activate it even if she had told them about it in the first place.

"Did you even bother to warn them about it?" Hermione asked incredulously.

Lyla bit back a smile, "It's not like it would have mattered if I did anyway." There was no arguing with that point for it was a proven fact that the Weasley twins were just a twee bit too curious for their own good. "Wait a tick," Lyla said, a thought suddenly occurring to her. "How'd you know about this?"

"I got post this morning from Ginny about it," she said in a deprecating tone, as though it should have been obvious. "Apparently the twins woke the whole house up with their screams and I don't blame them either. I would have been shrieking myself if something like that was done to me."

Lyla smirked at the possibility and wondered why she hadn't thought to charm Hermione's gift as well. Though she supposed it was for the best. Considering the present was meant to be a peace offering of sorts, pranking Hermione wouldn't have been that wise of a choice—however comical it might have proved to be.

"For what it's worth though," Hermione said suddenly, entirely missing the smirk on Lyla's face. "It means a lot to me that you didn't, even though you had the chance."

The sincerity on Hermione's face said more than words could ever hope to express. Both caused Lyla to feel a tad guilty for just seconds before she had been quietly snickering at the thought and now Hermione was thanking her. 'Well, isn't that a kick in the teeth,' Lyla thought, smiling slightly as she realized Hermione had probably got one over on her—a phenomenon widely known to hardly ever take place—and Lyla admired that greatly.

So much so in fact that she was willing to forget their differences and start anew. Hermione, for the most part, was thinking along the same lines as Lyla. The girls came to a silent agreement at that moment, to get along and did so not only for the first time that week, but since they met one another.

They talked openly with each other for the rest of the day and Lyla admitted that she quite enjoyed talking with Hermione who was in a sense her intellectual match. The two even bonded over their loathing of Divination, despite Lyla's obvious knack in the 'noble art.'

And thus, Lyla's winter vacation ended on a high note. She'd completed everything she'd wanted during those two weeks. Things with her brother and Remus were all peachy again. She'd gotten all her school work finished. She managed not only to piss off two of her professor's but Malfoy's father as well.

Yep, things were good for Lyla. She found herself looking forward to the following day when she would finally see her friends again after so long. She wondered how their vacations had gone and hoped they'd had as much fun as she had.

The sound of glass shattering cut shrilly through the darkness of what probably was at one time a quaint yet lavish room. However it was in complete disarray. Broken pictures were barely hanging on the walls that were covered in some places by floral print wallpaper. In other areas it looked as though nails had scraped down the walls and tore it in gashes every here and there. The curtains were only just hanging onto the window frame and the furniture in the room was either overturned or lying in numerous pieces, all varying in size.

A young girl's body had been hurled across what appeared to be her bedroom and through the glass doors of her armoire. The girl cried out, whimpering as the shards pierced her skin. A broader figure advanced threateningly upon the trembling creature, who only cried harder. Her tears mixing with her blood ran down her cheeks in currents. Bruises covered her face and arms and though her clothing was baggy and torn in places it was undeterminable what further damage had been done to her.

"Get up wench!" the man shouted, emphasizing his words with kicks to any part of the girl that was left unprotected. "You worthless whore! How dare you defy me! Do you think you're better than us? Huh? Do you, Gryffindor bint?!"

He kicked at the girl a few more times before reaching down and pulling her up slightly by her dark hair. "You're a traitor! Disgusting and useless!!" he hissed dangerously in her face. He then repeatedly brought his closed fist down across her blood stained face.

The girl cried out again and again as each hit made contact. The sounds caused the man to feel powerful, beating the defenseless girl to a bloody pulp. He smirked from the sick pleasure he was getting out of this. He would have continued his barrage of verbal and physical assaults if it weren't for the slim womanly figure that had suddenly appeared in the open door way.

"Devyn, we're going to be late if we don't leave soon. Leave that filth there and go clean yourself up," the pale dark haired woman said, sneering at the scene that was laid before her eyes in disgust. "I would hate to have her ruin our evening more than she already has," the woman drawled out slowly, stepping further into the room.

"Of course Marietta, darling," the man replied, letting the poor battered girl fall back to the glass covered floor, the broken shards cracking and imbedding themselves in her skin even more. He stomped away from her and out of the room, slamming the door on his way out, causing the young raven haired Gryffindor girl to cringe, fearing another blow was to come down upon her.

When no further pain came to her, she whimpered gracious that it was over for the time being. That was until the insipidly skinned woman decided to speak up. "Oh quit your sniveling, Rylie. Nobody wants to hear that. No one cares about you. You're pathetic little mudblood friends least of all."

She walked over to Rylie's trembling form and kneeled, careful to avoid the glass and blood that was everywhere. "You should have listened to us, dear," she said softly, her hand gently caressing the side of her daughter's face before seizing Rylie's chin tightly in her grasp.

"None of this would have happened had you not chosen to defy us. It's horrible enough to have bore such a disgrace, but to have said child sorted into Gryffindor...to have her amicably associating of her own free will with mudbloods!" In a fit of rage, Marietta's hand whipped down upon Rylie, no doubt slapping the taste from Rylie's mouth.

She calmed herself quickly though, knowing it best she waste no more time than she had already on her useless daughter. She stood up and stared in indifference down upon the quivering figure of the spawn of insolence she'd given life to. "This room better be cleaned by the time we get back or what you just went through wont even compare to what'll come next you little whore." Without another word said she turned from her bloodied daughter, leaving the room and the girl to their own devices.

Minutes went by and Rylie lay still, not daring to move a muscle till she was certain her parents had truly gone for the night. Nearly half an hour went by before the familiar 'pop' rang clearly through her dazed mind signaling her parents' departure.

She shakily pushed herself to her knees where she then crawled to a deserted corner of her room. Her bed was nearby, turned on its side, but it was of no use to her being broken in two from her father slamming her fragile body into it and all. A good majority of the objects in her room were in a similar condition for exactly the same reason.

Rylie had no semblance of explanation for her father's outburst this time. She couldn't for the life of her figure out what she'd done wrong if anything at all. However she didn't linger long on these thoughts. The pain she was in far overruled her mind for attention.

Bruises covered every portion of skin not covered by her oversized and torn clothing. Rylie had no doubt her ribs were either bruised or broken for it greatly hurt her to move even the slightest inch in any direction. The full extent of her contusions had yet to completely make themselves known.

She had mostly little scratches all over her face like the particularly nasty one over her right temple that was dripping blood down the side of her face. But there was also a long gash running the length of her jaw—from ear to chin—and a smaller one under her left eye.

Both wounds were bleeding but none more profusely than the one on her jaw. It was deep and one could almost see the bone. Rylie couldn't exactly remember how she had gotten that one. There were a few times when she had passed out and woke up with more wounds than before so that was possibly the reason.

She was actually almost thankful that she'd been unconscious for that one because it more than likely hurt a great deal considering it was still bleeding and she'd gotten it nearly three days ago. Of course that could be due to her father's unrelenting abuse towards her and her alone.

Oh how she wished Lyla was there with her. She wouldn't have let anything happen to her. No matter what her parents—specifically her mother—told her; she knew Lyla cared for her. More than anyone had ever cared for her before. Being aware of that however only made her hurt even more for she wanted to go back to the one place that finally felt like home. The one place she felt like she belonged: Hogwarts.

She had friends there, albeit only a few but that was more than she'd ever had before. They wouldn't let anything bad happen to her if they could help it, especially not Lyla. If she only knew...

Rylie cringed at the thought really not wanting to be her parents should Lyla ever find out the truth. For if Lyla knew what her parents had been putting her through, she'd drop whatever she was doing—whether it was important to her or not—track them down and make them beg for death before the end, no questions asked.

As much as that thought made her smile, Rylie couldn't help the cloud of depression that hung over her head. Sure she'd be going back to Hogwarts the following day...she'd get to see her friends again and be happy...but it wouldn't last. It never did and she'd be a fool to think otherwise for it never would.

She would always be sent back to this place of torture. Although she knew this before and had accepted it the previous year, meeting Lyla changed things. It gave her hope for a new future...a better and brighter one. One that was full to the brim near to bursting with joy and happiness. It was a future she looked forward to. To the day where she could finally leave her dark and dismal life behind, and exchange in a sense for one of hope and optimism.

Rylie pulled her knees up against her chest, her head resting on her bent knees while her arms came up to rest on her head as though to shield her from the truth that would not stop presenting itself. She gently rocked herself back and forth, crying out her misery for she desperately wanted to believe the life she'd long for was still within her grasp but knew otherwise that it would forever be out of her reach.

Tears streamed down her face, washing away some of the dried blood from her tainted skin. She had lost hope and saw no reason to go on fighting back for she saw herself as such a lost cause. Who would help her? Who would even want to? She sobbed harder putting all her faith in the only person that had ever been there for her. "Lyla," she called out weakly, pleading with everything she had for her dear friend to hear her, "Please help me."

159


	20. Chapter 20

- Chapter 20 -

- Chapter 20 -

All Wrapped Up With No Place to Go

Lyla woke that Sunday morning, gasping in pain, tears streaming down her unusually pale face. She had just had a horrible dream and no coherent words ran through her spinning mind, just a name, 'Rylie.' She was in trouble. She was in pain...Pain that Lyla was, for some inexplicably strange reason, experiencing right then.

"This is new," she murmured quietly so as to not disturb her roommate. Never before had she actually felt some semblance of pain that those in her dreams had and that worried her. She wanted to forget her worries and shake it off with the notion that she'd never before had a prophetic experience where she saw into the now or future. Her dreams were more along the lines of messages from the past.

However much she tried to push her thoughts away, even if it worked she'd still be left chalk-full of worry for her best friend. What if she didn't come back? What if something worse happened while Lyla was there trying not to think about what she'd seen? Lyla would never be able to forgive herself if something had transpired... Something that she could have prevented... something that she so desperately didn't want to think about at that moment.

Freaking out like that was helping no one and surely wasn't settling Lyla's worries. The best she could do at that moment was calm down and wait. For good or bad however, was yet to be determined. Rolling out of bed, Lyla groaned as her feet touched the unnaturally chilly floor of the Gryffindor third year dormitory.

In a little over an hour, the school would be swarming with students once more. Not that she would mind, quite the contrary actually. Lyla just didn't want to have to deal with certain people. She wanted to see her friends again, Rylie most of all for obvious reasons. However, the inevitable confrontation with her and Malfoy—about what she'd done to his father—was not something she wished to endure that day.

She dressed herself in a white spaghetti strap with a pink and blue zip-up hoodie over top, which had a red rose printed on the front, some blue jeans, and slipped some converses on, before Hermione had even woke up. She'd had a long night so Lyla wasn't that surprised that she'd opted to sleep in. It wasn't like anyone was coming back that she actually conversed with...except maybe Ginny but she'd understand and sympathize with Hermione's fatigued state.

Making her way out of her room and down into the Gryffindor common room where Harry and Ron were lazing about, Lyla plopped herself down next to her brother, greeting both boys before settling in for a long fun-filled couple of hours of staring at the ceiling. Both Harry and Ron were oblivious to Lyla's fidgety state. They were far too consumed with other issues, of which Lyla didn't have room in her already troubled mind for.

"You two really should just forgive Hermione already," Lyla said suddenly, wanting to ignore her other thoughts for a while and focus on something entirely different. It was the first time since the scuffle between Hermione and the boys happened that Lyla actually said anything to them about it. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to say something, but the outraged look on Ron's face told her otherwise.

"You're joking!" Ron exclaimed, eyes wide in shock.

"That's funny," Lyla said, swinging her feet around so that she could sit up straight, not liking the way Ron was towering over her, "because I find I'm rather not." She hadn't planned on fighting with anyone that morning, but she wouldn't just stand down either.

"You expect us to just forgive her after what she did?!" Ron said irately, his voice growing louder by the second.

"She did what any good friend would have done under those circumstances! Are you really more concerned about a broom than your best friend's safety?" Lyla asked as Ron's anger faded and he grew silent.

Harry, who had not said a word on the subject thus far, wisely chose to stay quiet. He was angry that his Firebolt had been confiscated, but also understood the motive behind Hermione's actions. However, he was not just about to forgive Hermione until he either had his broom back or her theory had proven true.

Lyla huffed in irritation, sensing that her words were not getting through the thick skull of either boy's head. So she left them to think over what she'd said and with any luck come to the conclusion she'd reached over a week ago: That they were two utterly moronic igits who needed a right good kick in the arse.

Of which she was fully capable and willing to supply them with if it weren't for her stomach deciding then was the perfect time to grumble vociferously, crying out for nourishment to soothe its hunger. And so Lyla made her way to the Great Hall for breakfast after shouting a hurried, "Good morrow," to Sir Cadogan for she was in no mood to converse more in depth with the lively portrait, especially not when her mind was wandering far off somewhere else with Rylie.

Luckily though, it seemed her mind had found it's way back to her sooner than she had anticipated. Lyla had just stepped into the Entrance Hall as the front doors burst open and students began to flood in from the cold. Immediately forgetting about her stomach, Lyla searched for her friend, looking frantically in every direction as she pushed her way through the throng of people.

The next few minutes proved Lyla's luck to be at an all time low for she ran into everyone she hadn't been looking for. Oliver for one skulked up behind her and covered her eyes, "Guess who?" He asked over excitedly for he could not contain his delight at seeing Lyla again after being away from her for so long.

"Oliver!" Lyla exclaimed in surprise, recognizing his voice quickly. She was in no way not happy to see him but she was otherwise too preoccupied to care much at that moment. "Don't do that," she reprimanded him, brushing his hands aside.

Far too caught up in her mission, Lyla was oblivious when Oliver's eyes searched her hand for the ring he had given her for Christmas. She completely missed the way his eyes lit up in sheer jubilation when he caught sight of it, and how he smiled like a kid who had just won the Quidditch World Cup.

But Lyla was of course oblivious to all of this. As was Oliver to the fact that she wasn't exactly paying the slightest bit of attention as he rambled on about his holiday. Spewing on about how it would have been even more enjoyable had she been there before abruptly shutting up, his cheeks heating up as he realized what he'd just said.

"Uh...uh...what I...um..." he stammered clumsily, trying to think up something quick to get the spot light off of him and on a different topic. Although he really needn't bother...it wasn't as though Lyla had actually heard anything he'd said. "Oh! You might want to be on your guard for the twins," he advised, recalling how incensed they had been on the train and assumed—quite accurately—that it had something to do with the high-spirited red headed Gryffindor he just so happened to fancy.

"Yeah, that's nice..." Lyla replied distractedly. "Have you seen Rylie?" she asked, finally making eye contact with the one guy in all of Hogwarts that could make her weak in the knees with the smallest of grins. The very same guy who was at that moment staring at her as though she were the only one in the world that mattered, grinning at her as big as his mouth would permit for a reason that was far beyond her reach.

Lyla had the grace to look a little abashed and guilty as she gave Oliver a small smile that soon faded when he informed her he hadn't seen Rylie on the train at all. She sighed returning to her task, ignoring Oliver so she could fully focus. Oliver, sensing Lyla's mind to be elsewhere, walked off in a somewhat dejected manner.

Lyla, though still oblivious to all else, was quite relieved to have finally spotted her friend. Though she grew ever more angered when she was deterred from her mission by none other than her least favorite Slytherin: Malfoy. He had stepped in her way, blocking her path with the help of his henchmen.

He glowered down at her from his superior height and Lyla knew only too well the reason he was so perturbed this time. She didn't rightly care though, especially not when Rylie was getting farther and farther away the longer Malfoy stayed in her way.

"What is your problem?" he snarled out, not elaborating and not needing to either.

"I had no problem till you started getting in my face, now _that_, I'm starting to consider a _big_ problem," Lyla replied back swiftly, trying to maneuver her way around the two walls of flesh Malfoy called his friends. However her attempts proved fruitless as they shifted their weight from one foot to the other, effortlessly cutting off any escape she may have found.

"Who do you think you are?" Malfoy asked, a little thrown at the fact that she'd spoken to him like that and then proceeded to ignore him, or try to at least. A few weeks back home with the parents and he was already used to people not talking back at him and doing whatever he said without question.

Well he better get unused to that and do it fast because Lyla wasn't prepared to change for him or anyone else. "I'm fairly certain that I'm Lyla Potter," Lyla said stepping closer to make sure he got the message loud and clear that she wasn't going to be intimidated and pushed around by him of all people. "Someone who doesn't have time for whiney-arsed Slytherin brats that I could easily give a new appendage to," she paused, smirking as she continued on in a whisper so only Malfoy could hear, "People will just think it runs in the family."

Lyla smirked even more as Malfoy's eyes widened in horror. He glanced back at his bottom to reassure himself that she hadn't already gone through with her threat and sighed in relief when nothing of an external tail orientation was found. Though nothing was there, Malfoy knew better than to test Lyla's patience. He glared at the more daring of the two Potter's and ran off with his tail between his legs...figuratively of course.

Squandering no more of the precious time Malfoy had already wasted; Lyla sprinted off following the trail of her escape artist of a friend. She had left everyone, including the twins—who had finally spotted her—in confusion over what had just gone down between her and the Slytherin punk, but she couldn't care less. Rylie had already gotten a long enough stretch of a head start, so Lyla just didn't have enough time to explain nor did she have any mind to do so.

She caught up to Rylie easily enough, foreseeing that she would head back to the Gryffindor common room. Considering Lyla now knew nearly all of the secret passages and routes to anywhere in the castle, she was able to intercept her friend before she reached her 'sanctuary' where Lyla wouldn't be able to interrogate her without an audience.

The slightest sight of Lyla made Rylie try to flee. She turned her back on her friend and was about to walk on but Lyla called out to her. She ran up to her friend, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder to halt her escape.

Rylie was doing everything within her power to avoid direct eye contact with Lyla which included keeping her head bowed and eyes locked on the stone floor. Her hair was down and covering most of her face when Lyla finally managed to turn her friend around. Rylie's actions were atypical of her especially towards Lyla and Lyla was fairly certain she knew why her friend was acting this way—though she'd rather she were wrong.

Lyla repeated her friend's name, hoping that Rylie would look at her of her own volition. Anything forceful would not be appreciated considering everything. Rylie sighed, finally looking up causing Lyla to suppress a gasp.

Rylie had used a glamour to hide her injuries from everyone—especially Lyla—though despite her precautionary measures, her charms were wearing off, which of course was another reason why she was running from Lyla. Even though Lyla had seen her injuries already, being face to face with them was so much more impacting.

"Looks like you got quite the trouncing Rye," Lyla said softly after controlling her urge to storm out of Hogwarts and hunt down her friend's parents. "What happened?" she asked, gently running her fingers over the bruised skin of her best friend's face, trying her best to avoid brushing against the rather deep gash on her jaw, that was thankfully no longer gushing blood.

She thought it best to keep Rylie in the dark about her front row seat to the show for now. There were a lot of things on her mind anyways. She didn't need to know that Lyla had seen all of what she had.

Tears blurred Rylie's vision as she attempted but failed miserably to control them. They broke free from her eyes, streaming down her face in a current of despair. She wanted to tell Lyla everything. She was her best friend after all. Unfortunately she had a mouthful of words she was just too frightened to speak aloud.

Lyla pulled her weeping friend into her arms, comforting her as they slid to their knees in the deserted corridor. Through Rylie's sobs Lyla listened to the upsetting tale of what her friend had been forced to endure at home. It was heartbreaking hearing what Rylie had to say, and she wished she could have done something, anything at all that would have prevented her friend's pain.

Lyla hated feeling helpless and did everything in her power to avoid feeling so. But there was nothing she could have done and she knew this—though it didn't stop her from imagining all the horrible things she'd put Rylie's parents through should they ever stumble upon each other.

Shushing her friend gently, Lyla tried to calm Rylie for she was gasping for breath, too preoccupied with crying to remember to breath. "Shh, Rye it's alright...everything is going to be alright," Lyla whispered softly, trying to not only assure her friend of this but herself as well.

"It just hurts so much, Lyla," Rylie sobbed, "Just because I'm in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin like a good little child of Death Eaters should be, my own parents hate me!"

Lyla listened as her friend wept on about when her parents first began detesting her existence and about how she couldn't have any friends because of how scared she was of her parents finding out they had a muggle lineage. Though Lyla was shocked beyond words that her best friend's parents were Death Eaters she didn't utter a sound on the matter, thinking it best to ignore that fact for it certainly wouldn't do any good forcing Rylie to talk about it then.

"I just don't understand why? Why do they hurt me like this, Lyla? Why!? Why won't they stop? Why can't I be strong like you and make them stop?!" Rylie was getting hysterical and Lyla for one couldn't rightly blame her. She'd probably be in the same condition were she in that situation.

Needless to say, Lyla was feeling very awkward as her friend desperately clung to her, needing the comfort only a friend could give. She was far from being the best at consoling anyone for she wasn't used to situations like those. She was accustomed to everyone around her constantly being in high spirits because she usually was. It was always so easy to put a smile on those around her and when it actually mattered she felt helpless in her mission to turn her friend's frown upside down.

She was at a loss for words to say...clueless as to what she could possibly do. The sight of her sobbing friend broke her heart and she felt as though someone had just knocked the wind out of her. She sat on the ground, gathering Rylie into her arms, and rubbing her hand up and down her back, whispering incomprehensible soothing sounds for what seemed like forever. Apparently that worked well.

Rylie's sobs died down to mere sniffling and Lyla finally opened her mouth to speak. "You are strong Rylie, don't you ever let anyone make you believe otherwise."

"Not like you though," she said as she wiped at her eyes, sniffling lightly as she calmed herself.

"No, not like me," Lyla said slowly, "You're so much stronger than I could ever be. Cant you see that?" Lyla could see that she wasn't getting through to her friend and sighed, shaking her head. "Rylie, we are made stronger by what we overcome and what we've lived through. My life thus far has been a walk in the park. I've never had to go through what you've so obviously grown to expect. If I were in your situation I wouldn't have made it as far as you have."

"It doesn't make a difference whether I've made it this far or not. To them at least it doesn't, they won't stop and I can't make them. I might as well just give up altogether," Rylie said in defeat.

"Don't you dare," Lyla shot back sternly. "If you give up, you're letting them win. Don't let them win, Rye. That's exactly what they want."

"I know Lyla, trust me I know. But it's just so hard when all I get when I do go back to that place they call home is abuse both verbal and physical and it hurts so much. Why do they hurt me? Why?" Rylie began to become worked up again.

The tears quickly filled Rylie's eyes as she stared up at her friend, expecting her to answer all her questions and make everything better. To which Lyla was fully willing to do. "I'm not going to kid you, Rylie," Lyla stated slowly, "The truth is, everyone's going to hurt you sooner or later. You just have to decide, in the end, who's worth the pain."

The girls grew silent. Off in the distance Lyla could hear the dull roar of her fellow classmates chattering on to their friends. The lack of noise was threatening to strangle Lyla when Rylie finally spoke. "They're not worth it," she stated simply yet firmly as though convincing herself of this as well.

Lyla smiled down at her friend as she sighed, "I'm glad you're my friend Lyla," Rylie said sincerely, smiling slightly. But slightly wasn't good enough for Lyla. She wanted a true smile that lit up her eyes. She wanted to chase away all her sadness and make her forget the horrible things she'd been forced to endure and she was adamantly determined to do so.

"Rye we're going to be friends forever. Even when we're old and decrepit, chasing each other around in our little motorized wheelchairs," Lyla said, trailing off with a smile on her face, as though looking into the future and envisioning the scene she'd just described.

"Why would we be chasing each other?" Rylie asked looking rather confused.

"Well...we wont," Lyla drawled out slowly. At the questioning look from Rylie to elaborate, she went ahead and did just that. "You'll more than likely be chasing me."

"I, once again, ask why?"

"Because I'd more than likely had stolen your denture," Lyla said laughing. Her laughter was contagious and soon enough both girls were snickering. However that didn't last long. Not because they didn't want it to or anything, but because the gash running the length of Rylie's jaw protested the action.

Lyla, seeing her friend in pain, suggested they get her cleaned up but since she was ill adept at healing charms, Rylie had to do all the work. She replaced the glamour and the pair moseyed on up to Gryffindor Tower where Rylie ambled up the stairs to their dorm to fix her face while Lyla in the meantime stayed—quite foolishly—in the common room...where anyone could find her...anyone being her favorite red headed twins, who were by far quite miffed at her.

She realizes this of course, after thinking back to all that had happened that day and remembered Oliver warning her about keeping out of their way. She had been sitting on the couch by the fire when she decided it was best to be elsewhere for the moment. Like an up in her dorm away from all possible harm kind of elsewhere.

However she turned to leave and ran—quite literally—into the Weasley twins. They were the picture of humor to Lyla and she couldn't help but laugh at her masterpieces. Neither could everyone else that had seen them either.

It was highly likely that the twins had been the subject of much teasing during the train ride but more so than that, Lyla had no doubt they loved the attention—no matter how angry they looked at the moment. "Lyla," Fred said. He and George were doing their best to block any possible exits for their fellow Gryffindor, "Just the person we were looking for. Why don't you inform Miss Potter here why we were so _eager_ to see her, George?"

"Why it would be my pleasure Fred!" George spoke up forcing Lyla's attention away from his mirror image and over to him. His eyes were serious and stern as he spoke but Lyla found it increasingly more difficult to take either of them serious as she pictured the events of what she had done.

The twins' vacation had been going quite well. Everyone—with the exception of Ronald—was home for the holidays and Fred and George were making the most of their _quality time with the family_.

They had already managed to prank every member of the Weasley household more than once on numerous occasions and it wasn't even Christmas yet. Of course everyone meant exactly that with the exception of mother Weasley since they knew better than that.

They'd charmed all of Percy's books shut for the remainder of the holiday—that was more than enough to keep him out of their hair for the majority of their vacation since it would most likely take him a while to reverse the spell. However compared to the rest, Percy got off easy. Bill and Charlie for one walked around most of that week in their underwear, waiting for the animate enchantment on all their clothes to wear off.

(The personification of inanimate objects: giving them life and the ability to function, move and yes, even fight all on their own.)

Since their dear little sister was growing out of the tom-boy stage of her life the twins thought it appropriate to assist her on this treacherous journey into lady hood. So what else could they do but charm every feminine product she owned to backfire on her if ever she should attempt to use them. She went that whole week without using any makeup and borrowing their mother's shampoo and conditioner, after getting ready that first morning backfired on her ending with a very clown-like Ginny screaming her head off at her troublesome brothers.

Nothing too colossal happened to their father that he himself didn't laugh at. And since their ickle brother Ronnie-kins opted to stay at Hogwarts and miss out on all the fun, Fred and George took it upon themselves to booby-trap every possible inch of his room for his return that summer. No one knew of this so Ronald had no chance of escaping the unavoidable doom awaiting his homecoming.

Their mother was none too happy with their antics but knew she couldn't change them and didn't expect to either. However that didn't stop her from punishing them at every turn, Christmas or not. They should know better and most definitely would have if they cared enough to pay attention to any of her interminable lectures. She only wished someone would teach them a lesson and was unaware of the fact that someone had in fact taught them a lesson, and also that another lesson was on its way there.

It was late in the afternoon on Christmas Eve that the parcels arrived. They were bright and extravagantly wrapped neatly with bizarre colors—considering they were Christmas presents—with rather large polka dotted bows on top of them. No one need ask who they were to, for it was obvious from the way they were wrapped that they were meant for no one but the twins.

Fred and George were delighted at the sight of the packages, knowing without a glance at the tags that they were from Lyla. They were curious and excited at the prospect of what was inside and spent most of the rest of that day pondering what they could be, much to the relief of their family who were granted a temporary reprieve from the twins' antics.

Now in some households, everyone opens presents on the night of Christmas Eve. However the Weasley's did not. Presents were strictly to be opened on Christmas morning when the whole family was gathered together and not a moment sooner. Fred and George never liked this rule and always took it upon themselves to break it whenever they could.

Though this year Molly had made sure to charm all the nametags blank so they didn't know which gift was theirs and they were considerate enough not to open anyone else's presents. However it was pointless to remove the tag from Lyla's gift for the wrapping paper was a dead give away.

Molly disregarded this fact, having forgotten about the parcels by then. The twins on the other hand had their eyes set on opening at least one of their gifts that night. And it just so happened that Lyla's present was the only one that interested them anyway.

The Weasleys all turned in early for the night, Fred and George included—although they were just lying in wait till the coast was clear. An hour till midnight they made their move. Tiptoeing down the stairs, sure to avoid all the creaky spots which—having done this multiple times before—they'd become experts on.

They stealthily crept into the living room; a few cinders in the fireplace were fighting to stay alight casting an eerie glow about the cozy room. Traipsing carefully around random discarded items and only once did they stumble over something unseen. They cursed under their breaths but all this had gone unnoticed to all else in the house.

George shuffled through the gifts by the tree while Fred nursed his injured foot by the fire. He found them easily enough. The wrapping paper glowed in the dim light so it was faintly glimmering in the shadows of the massive festively decorated Christmas tree.

Situating the presents between themselves, Fred and George set to work unwrapping them. What happened next however was most unexpected. It appeared as though their gifts had been charmed to react in a most violent yet comical way, should anyone try to open them before Christmas morning.

The neon green and purple polka dotted bows unraveled themselves and the pink and orange striped wrapping paper slithered off the packages without it being either of the twins' doing. They instantly knew something was wrong and slid away from their gifts but it was already too late. The ribbons had wrapped themselves tightly around one of each twins' foot in an attempt to pull them back to their presents.

Fred and George let loose a string of hollers that would not be forgotten in the Weasley home for many years to come. Their family was used to screams resounding from each other due to the troublesome look-alikes. However they themselves making such a raucous was an unprecedented phenomenon.

Therefore it was of no surprise that all the Weasleys left the safety of their own bedrooms to see what all the fuss was about. The scene that met their eyes was unlikely in their minds for they had thought the possibility of someone besting the twins as improbable. But the proof was right before their eyes.

The twins were being chased around the living room—the Christmas tree, presents and couches all included—by the gifts their friend Lyla had sent them. Well not the gifts themselves for whatever she had sent them was still safely tucked away in their separate boxes. The wrapping paper and ribbons, however, was another story.

No one thought to step in on the twins' behalf because no one was capable of speech let alone magic at that moment. Even Percy was having a good laugh over the twins' misfortune as Fred and George took yet another lap around the spacious room. They were soon caught though and wrapped, paper and all, as though they were a couple of presents themselves.

"Now I don't know about you Fred, but I was under the impression that we weren't to prank each other anymore," George stated after he and his brother dramatically told the tale of their vacation.

"No, I do believe you are quite right," Fred piped in. He and his other half staring down at Lyla, waiting for a response of some sort. But Lyla couldn't form words for the life of her. What they'd just told her was far better than she'd thought her prank would turn out. Besides that though, the twins still had matching pieces of neon green and purple polka dotted ribbons stuck in their hair.

"I don't find this situation that laughable!" George said crossly.

"Yeah, we were stuck like that till mom said it was time to open presents and let Bill, Charlie, and Ginny unwrap us!" Fred said, the twins continuing with their incessant ear bashing while Lyla was rather flummoxed about why they were so angry.

"I don't know what you guys are talking about really..." Lyla said in mock innocence.

"We're not allowed to prank each other anymore!" George explained.

"Yeah! We all promised!"

"I made no such promise," Lyla laughed at their outraged obvious misunderstanding of her intentions. "I do, however, seem to recall making the two of you, promise never to prank me, no where in there said that I was to agree to the same."

Fred and George made to argue, their mouths opened and a hand each stretched out before them with the index finger pointed crossly at Lyla, before they stopped. They turned their heads and looked at each other, their hands falling back to their sides as they muttered, "She has a point."

"'Course I do. I'm Lyla, I always have a point," Lyla said jokingly although for the most part it was true and everyone knew it as well. She always planned things out to the point where whether or not things went how she'd expected she'd be prepared to deal with whatever came her way.

Rylie came back downstairs, her face free of contusions, and the two friends spent the rest of their last day of vacation wandering around the castle. Lyla had tried to convince her friend to tell someone of the abusive parental figures waiting for her back home, but Rylie made her promise to not say a word and against her better judgment, she did. She could tell her friend was adamant about keeping her business just that and for the time being backed off.

After a semi-boring dinner, which Lyla rushed down, in a hurry to get back up to the common room and reveal what she'd been working on most of that week. It was a sure fire way to make Rylie laugh her thoughts away for at least a good week or two and that was exactly what her dear friend needed, but since Lucy wasn't there, Lyla had to improvise.

As soon as Rylie was finished with her food, Lyla was up and dragging her less spirited friend up the many staircases and to their common room. She let Rylie collapse on the couch while she ran up to her dorm to grab the notebook shed been writing in the previous day. When she returned downstairs she saw that the twins had now joined them—obviously curious as to what the rush was about.

"Lyla what's going on?" Rylie inquired, breathing heavily from their sprint.

Lyla snickered a bit and held up her notebook, smirking when she saw the twins' eyes light up. They knew whatever was in there was bound to be worth dashing up the stairs after their two friends. "In the spirit of New Years I thought it prudent to make a list of resolutions and I would like to share these with you."

"No objection here, Lye," Fred said as him and his other half sat on the edge of their seats in anticipation.

"I want to go on record and state that none of these were meant to give you two any ideas," Lyla said sternly, staring the twins down till they raised their hands in defeat. "This was purely created for entertainment purposes only," Lyla drawled out slowly only to quickly end with, "and as a list of reminders for me, but no one needs to know that part."

Gryffindors of all ages started pouring in through the now opened portrait as Lyla started to speak, her eyes sparkling as they fell on a group of unsuspecting first years. "I will not tell muggle-born first years that Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans taste better when you eat a handful all at once, as that is just malicious..."

Rylie smirked, giggling slightly for she knew that Lyla was planning to do that to next year's batch. The twins however stared at their fellow red head in awe that they hadn't thought of that before. Lyla ignored her friends' expressions, and smirked at the pale faced first years who were slowly attempting to slink away unharmed.

"Along with that, first years should not be encouraged to befriend the Whomping Willow..." Lyla stated as though she were lecturing a class, "and as such I will not convince them that it is a _smashing_ idea to build a tree house in it."

The now crowded common room closed in around Lyla to hear better. The first years were looking sick at the prospect of being force fed unknown flavor beans only to then be knocked around by a violent tree. Hermione, who had walked in with the first years, scolded Lyla for scaring them and demanded that she stop whatever it was she was up to.

"Alright, alright already!" Lyla exclaimed. "I only have one more about them anyways," she said pleadingly, although she'd more than likely proceed with or without Hermione's approval. Luckily though, Hermione backed down and gave her consent.

Lyla jumped on the coffee table so her fellow students could all hear her as she projected her resolutions to the crowd. "First years are not toys and as such I should not teach the Giant Squid to fetch them..." she paused momentarily, smirking before going on, "unless of course they're ickle Slytherin firsties."

That seemed to placate their fears a tad—though Hermione was still ill at eased about whatever Lyla was up to and that was yet again understandable. "Ok first years, rest at ease, you're safe...for now," she added as an afterthought.

Most of Gryffindor was now in the common room, gathering around to hear Lyla's declarations. "Providing Peeves with a case of dung bombs was a socially irresponsible action, and I will not do it again," Lyla said as though she were apologizing to McGonagall. The twins and Rylie laughed as everyone else was worried that she'd actually done that.

"I will also not supply Peeves with Snape's 'misplaced' wand at anytime or for any reason," Lyla said smirking knowing without a doubt that she would and wanted to do so as well. "Oh this is a good one," Lyla snickered, taking on an accent as she spoke, "No matter how good a fake Australian accent I can do; I will not imitate Steve Irwin during Care of Magical Creatures class."

Lyla smirked as she read off the next one, "I will under no circumstances follow potion instructions in reverse just to see what happens." The twins glanced at each other obviously planning to do just that.

"Gryffindor courage does not come in bottles labeled fire whiskey. Charming the label does not change anything...doing so and leaving them in the Hufflepuff common room to see what happens is wrong!" George got up and grabbed a spare bit of parchment and a quill to start taking notes.

"The four houses are not the Morons, the Borons, the Smartarses and the Junior Death Eaters. And it is not appropriate to refer to them as such...at least not to their faces," she finished softly, sniggering as her fellow Gryffindors burst out laughing at how accurately put their name was after all it was a Gryffindor who came up with all these.

"Moorrons..." Fred drawled out under his breath as his wrote.

"Ok, some of you might not understand these next few, for they reference muggle pop culture." Her housemates nodded their comprehension, or soon to be confusion as Lyla cleared her throat, "No matter how creepy and abandoned some of the towers are, I will not find Johnny Depp with scissors for hands in any of them...and that is not an appropriate excuse for being out of bed late at night."

Scattered laughs rang out around the room from the few muggleborn students who were listening. Even 'Mione managed a smile albeit a small one that was barely noticeable. After all it wouldn't be good for her image if she were to show she had a sense of humor.

Lyla stopped her train of thought, scolding herself as her thoughts on Hermione grew from bad to worse. She had momentarily forgotten their silent agreement to get along. Shaking her head to get back in focus, Lyla noted with a sigh that no one seemed to notice her faraway look that she had briefly donned.

Lyla noticed Seamus in the crowd of people and pointed directly at him before shouting, "Seamus Finnegan is not, 'after me lucky charms!'" Seamus was part muggle so he got the reference and snickered along with the other few muggleborn Gryffindors, nodding his head at Lyla as she smiled apologetically not sure whether or not he was offended by her jab.

Reading the next thing on her list Lyla gave a short laugh before impersonating her favorite Star Wars character, "Speaking like Yoda, does not a happy Professor make. Funny, it is not." She got more laughs from this one, but she suspected that was because of her voice and not because they actually knew what she was talking about.

Parvati Patil and her best friend Lavender Brown walked down into the common room, Lyla caught sight of them and decided to adlib a bit. "I will not insinuate that Trelawney lights up more than just incense up in her tower...where Johnny Depp would most definitely not be found!"

That one caused even dear ol' 'Mione to laugh out loud. Parvati and Lavender, however, looked less than amused. Though Lyla didn't rightly care what they thought and that was evident as she purposefully added more jibes at the loon's expense. "Trelawney is not just a drunken old hippy, and I shall not refer to her as such...especially to her face...and during class."

Lyla choked back a laugh as the smile on her face only grew wider with each person that laughed at her antics. As she spoke her words were broken up by laughter, her audience's and hers as well, "Bringing fortune cookies to divination will not earn me extra credit. Nor will bringing in a Magic 8 ball, as these items will only cause inferiority problems for Trelawney."

At that moment Harry and Ron walked in followed closely by a chattering Oliver. Lyla caught a few words that sounded something like, "Crime against everything that is Quidditch!" coming from Oliver and assumed he had found out about the confiscation of Harry's firebolt.

Lyla didn't say anything on this. She did however say something about Oliver, for she couldn't help what had popped into her head when she saw him. "'I've heard every possible joke about Oliver Wood's name,' is not a challenge and under no condition should I take it as such."

Oliver looked up at her in confusion as his housemates laughed. He understood the humor in her statement just not why she was standing on a coffee table in the middle of the common room announcing it to all the Gryffindors. Harry, Ron and himself sat themselves by the twins, who explained what Lyla was up to while she carried on with her list of things to accomplish.

Lyla's eyes flashed to Ron quickly, a grin soon making its way across her face. Her glance had gone unnoticed, but all the attention was back on her as she opened her mouth to speak once again. "Putting fake spiders around Ron's bed is not funny, especially not when he tries to jump out the window."

"You wouldn't!" Ron shouted, looking about ready to piss himself at the thought of a bunch of arachnids surrounding him as he slept—fake or not.

_"I_ wouldn't," Lyla replied calmly, staring pointedly at the twins who were whispering excitedly to each other. She didn't feel too guilty that she'd just given them that idea, for her and Ron had parted on sour terms with one another that morning so she wasn't feeling too sympathetic for him in the slightest.

Ron looked ready to beg his brother's not to do anything too horrible but Lyla cut him off, wanting to finish before the night was over. This time however she decided to poke fun at everyone's least favorite Slytherin. "I will not post naked baby pictures of Malfoy all over the school," Lyla stated, putting on an innocent expression as she ignored the shocked faces of her classmates. "And even if I did," she said quickly, "I would refrain from implying that he hasn't gotten much 'bigger'."

"You weren't really planning on doing that, were you?" asked Hermione in shock.

"Course not," Lyla replied with shifty eyes, making sure not to look directly at Hermione. She shrugged her shoulders going on quickly so that her bushy haired friend couldn't reprimand her for even thinking of doing such an atrocious thing. "Setting a Snitch loose in Malfoy's pants isn't all that funny...even if it does make him scream like a girl."

Harry had tears in his eyes, a mental picture forming in his mind. "Setting a Snitch loose in Malfoy's pants during a Quidditch match on the other hand..." Lyla trailed off as the room filled with the roaring laughter of her housemates.

"Enough about Malfoy," Lyla said through her tears of mirth. Groans of protest rang out but Lyla ignored them. "Next on the list: Hogwarts Professors!" She announced dramatically, the discord turned to cheers at the thought of what Lyla would possibly come up with.

"The proper way to report to Professor McGonagall is, "You wanted to see me, Professor?" Not, "What's new pussycat?" Lyla said in a sing-song voice. She read the next one before speaking and cracked up, "I am not allowed to use any silencing charms on my Professors."

Once again her audience was amused and Hermione was appalled. Lyla once again ignored them, drawing herself up to her full height, which wasn't that much, and attempted to say the next on her list with a straight face. "I will refrain from doing something 'outrageous' for Hogwarts' own, Hogwarts' favorite, Hogwarts' snarkiest Potions Professors' birthday...especially when said outrageous something involves a midget."

The twins stared blankly at Lyla, "Do you even know when his birthday is," they asked incredulously. Her only reply was to smirk innocently, however beside the fact that she's never been innocent; the spark in her eyes gave her away.

Before Fred and George could badger the date out of her however Lyla proceeded on with her declarations. "Telling Nearly Headless Nick that he'd forget his head if it wasn't attached is just cruel..." Lyla stated turning to look at the twins admonishingly, knowing that they'd be prone to do just that.

"This one applies to Fred and George too," Lyla said giggling already even though she hadn't even said anything yet. "If the thought of a spell makes me giggle for longer than 15 seconds, I am to assume that I am not allowed to do it." Though more accurately, for both Lyla and her fellow red heads, if the thought of a spell makes them giggle at all, it should be known that they're not allowed to do it.

"I am no longer permitted to sing my own personal spy music when I wander around the hallways," Lyla said, thinking back to Christmas Eve when she was skulking around the castle and barrel rolled around a corner right into Snape. He was less than amused and Lyla was temporarily horrified, deciding it best to never repeat that experience again.

Lyla's eyes quickly shifted towards Hermione, knowing she'd throw a fit at the next thing on her list. "I will not start food fights in the Great Hall," she stated semi-truthfully.

"You most certainly will not!" Hermione shouted, stomping over to the table where Lyla stood.

"It's what I said!" Lyla defended herself half heartedly.

"Like that matters! Everyone should know by now that what you say and what you intend are two completely different things!" Hermione argued, their housemates knowing this to be true so there was no point in arguing and Lyla didn't bother to do so either.

She simply rolled her eyes, turning her back to the argumentative girl to continue with her display. "Ok this is the last one." Lyla took a deep breath, "April Fool's Day is _not_ an excuse for whatever I was planning..."

"Is it still inexcusable if it's for the birthday of your favorite set of twins?" George asked hopefully. Lyla pondered this with a smirk on her face, wondering if she could truly justify her actions with that as her reason. She'd do it anyway no matter what, but she always liked to have something already thought up incase she needed to talk her way out of the hole she'd dug for herself.

173


	21. Chapter 21

- Chapter 21 -

- Chapter 21 -

The Howler

Lyla's vacation ended on a high note. Her friends were back, she'd succeeded thus far in making Rylie forget past indiscretions, and school was starting that next day. To which Lyla was overly excited for, even though spending two blistering cold hours on the grounds for Care of Magical Creatures was not something she looked forward to.

Though she'd grin and bear it, after all it was part of the Hogwarts experience so she was happy to oblige without complaint. Others however, were less jubilant about the return to classes. Ron and Harry grumbled the whole way down to breakfast about being up so early in the morning but Lyla's good mood could not be deterred by their negative dispositions.

Not even the glares from Malfoy could get her down. They only served to put her in even higher spirits as she recalled exactly why she was receiving them. Breakfast was almost over with when the morning post arrived and she got yet another reminder of her past mischief.

Owls skittered about here and there, swooping by and dropping parcels to their designated person, or more precisely _in_ their designated person's breakfast. Lyla snickered as a few of her classmates around her were splashed by their porridge only to stop abruptly as an extremely rare event occurred.

A large, majestic, Eagle owl plunged down from the ceiling, nearly taking Lyla's head off as it angrily dive bombed towards her. She shrieked, her arms flailing above her head as she ducked low to avoid the blasted bird. Though she really needn't bother with that, for it appeared to desire only one decapitation attempt before its departure.

Lyla cautiously lifted her head from its safe haven below the table only to find a scarlet envelope stuck in her breakfast. She tilted her head to the side wondering who on earth would send her post when everyone she knew was already at Hogwarts. Picking up a fork, Lyla poked at the letter suspiciously, knowing enough to know better than to open a suspicious package.

Rylie and the rest stared warily as Lyla proceeded to poke and prod the crimson note, completely oblivious to how each stab of her fork caused everyone around her to duck and cover. This didn't go on for very long for Harry finally plucked up the courage to do something about his sister's daring antics.

He reached across the table, grasping the utensil from her hand. "Open it will you?!" he shouted hoarsely, leaning back farther away from the offending letter. And Lyla could definitely see how the still-soaking-in-her-porridge letter could be offensive—note the sarcasm there.

"Crikey! What's got your knickers in a twist?" Lyla asked wondering why everyone was acting all suspicious-like all of a sudden. She knew why she was, but what was everyone else's excuse?

"Don't you know what that is?" Hermione drawled out in her know-it-all tone that never failed to cause that ever-irritating twitch in Lyla's eye.

Lyla, try as hard as she might, failed to stop the spasm from making itself known. "No 'Mione, I don't. But since you apparently do, why don't you tell me because as far as I can tell: It's. A. Letter." She said condescendingly talking down to Hermione to see how she liked it.

Apparently she didn't for she completely blanked Lyla, refusing to respond to Lyla's derisive tone. Ron thankfully answered instead, looking oddly pale as he spoke. "That's a Howler, that is," he said shakily. "I got one last year from me mum...it was horrible."

Lyla had never heard of a Howler before so it came as no surprise when she cocked her head to the side yet again and with a very straight face inquired, "Well...what's it do?"

Harry smacked his forehead at his sister's inability to put two and two together. He was growing impatient for he knew what would happen should she not open the darned thing soon. "Just open it and find out before it blows up!" he said impatiently.

"It'll blow up?" Lyla asked, wide-eyed and excited at that prospect, a considerably large grin crawling its way across her face. Many may think that a bit odd and they'd all be right to think so. However Lyla had been quite disappointed when her gift from her favorite Weasleys didn't do as she'd anticipated, so she saw this 'howler' as a good thing.

Though everyone else—barring the twins—were adverse in thinking this way. Harry and those nearby wanted Lyla to open the darn thing before it was too late, while others—mainly Malfoy and co.—were just anxiously watching on, not caring either way for they'd hear what was said no matter what.

No one had to wait very long, for while Lyla argued with Harry and the others about opening the letter, it began to smolder. The red ribbon keeping the crimson note shut, unraveled as it burst open and a loud, hysterically angry, voice boomed from around the explosions point of origin, leaving Lyla with no question as to who had sent her the entertaining magical letter.

**"You blasted, cheeky, little chit! How dare you humiliate me like this?! Congratulations! You've single handedly destroyed any sense of pride, honor and dignity the Malfoy family has spent centuries building. I hope you're pleased with yourself!"**

"I'm quite giddy about that yes..." Lyla mused to herself, not in the slightest shocked by dear ol' Lucy's reaction.

"**You better reverse this and do it quick or so help me, you will pay. You will beg for reprieve before the end and it will not come swiftly! You have been warned, send the reversal spell or you will have me to deal with."**

"I've already dealt with you and apparently I did a dandy of a job at that too," Lyla laughed as the howler tore itself to pieces, the shredded slips of ruby paper floating down to make their final resting place in her porridge.

Lyla went back to her breakfast—foregoing the porridge for some toast instead—oblivious to the stares she was receiving from her classmates and teachers and the intense glare burning a hole into the back of her head from Malfoy himself.

A few minutes went by before the suspense became too much for everyone. "Ok, what'd you do?" Lyla looked up as her brother accused her of having done something, though she wasn't denying the fact that she had indeed done something, for dear ol' Lucy blabbed to everyone via Howler that she had very well in fact did.

So instead of denying it, like she usually would have, Lyla simply smiled and said, "You'll see for yourself soon enough."

Her friends knew enough to know that they weren't going to get anything else out of her until she wanted them to know. So they left her alone, the conversation flowing quietly between them until it was time for their first class of the day: Care of Magical Creatures.

It was freezing outside and Lyla spent a good majority of the two hour class huddled around the giant bonfire that Hagrid had constructed. Rylie was right along with her, warming her frozen body by the fire as they observed the salamanders scampering around in the burning cinders. Rylie had been trying to get what Lyla had done to Malfoy's father out of her but Lyla wouldn't let slip a single word.

Class ended after Lyla...accidentally-on-purpose...tripped Malfoy into the bonfire resulting in her added amusement for the day in ticking off not one but two Malfoy's. Malfoy was soon sent to the Hospital Wing, yet again, and Lyla felt slightly guilty. Not because he was 'severely burned'—as he oh-so-dramatically wailed. But because Hagrid would more than likely get more heat about the incident though if need be Lyla would gladly testify that it was Malfoy's own big feet that got him all _fired up_ in the first place.

Rylie and Lyla, giggling about the events that had ensued, made their way up to the castle for their next class: Divination. Lyla personally was ecstatic. Normally she absolutely abhorred the so-called class but considering her last encounter with Trelawney had been nothing short of amusing, she found herself looking forward to it...if only to poke further fun at the loony-bin.

She knew now that she wouldn't get in trouble. McGonagall herself was openly mocking her—_with_ Lyla no less—so Lyla saw no reason why she couldn't. It wasn't like Trelawney would realize she was being mocked while it was happening if she realized it at all.

And realize it she did not. Though she did glare at every snicker that came from Lyla's immediate direction—even if it didn't directly come from Lyla. Class flew by quickly for Lyla amidst the glares not only from Trelawney, but Lavender and Parvati as well, who had neither forgiven nor forgotten Lyla's declarations of the previous day.

Though Lyla didn't expect they would and was quite pleased that they hadn't. She was overly elated that everyone was still speaking of her declarations well into and through Defense Against the Dark Arts, her last class of the day—for it meant they'd disregarded the events of that morning's breakfast.

Lyla noted that Remy had gotten that days lesson from the Creature Feature she'd given him and therefore decided—since she'd already read and was well versed in the book—that she didn't need to pay attention. Her mind was already preoccupied with thoughts of soon starting up her training again anyway.

Remus noticed Lyla's off-in-another-world stare during his lecture and knew only too well that she'd be bothering him with whatever it was once class ended. Though to be fair he was quite looking forward to their chat—considering he'd missed the Christmas Feast and was quite curious about the details of his goddaughter's encounter with the elder Malfoy.

As soon as class came to a close Lyla attempted to make her way to Remus but Harry got to him before she'd even packed her things. Being the nice sister that she was, Lyla patiently waited outside the classroom to give Harry his privacy. She told Rylie to head on without her since she expected her training to begin after Harry left the room.

Harry departed the room soon after Lyla had finally taken a seat by the open door. He walked right on by—apparently not noticing his sister crouched in the corridor. Lyla ignored this though since it was insignificant to her at the moment. She entered the room and found Remus leaning against his desk as though waiting for her.

He still looked quite ill to her but she'd grown accustomed to seeing him as such—although it still bothered her, she knew it would do neither of them any good to worry over it. So instead of saying anything on her godfather's health, Lyla simply smiled in greeting, walking up the center aisle of desks till she reached the front row where she then settled herself atop a desk across from Remus.

"To what do I owe this visit, Lyla?" Remus asked, although he had a feeling he knew exactly what she was there for. However that didn't stop him from feigning ignorance.

"Can I not visit my favorite Defense Against the Dark Arts professor without there needing to be a reason," Lyla said smiling sweetly, swinging her feet back and forth slowly. This was a game of theirs. Both knew what they were there for, but the banter between the two would always be far too appealing to brush aside.

"I'm your only Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Remus pointed out dryly, smirking as his goddaughter pouted.

"Duly noted," she said laughingly, "I am here to see you though."

"I figured as much," Remus said mockingly for it was apparent that she'd come to see him. Who else would she have expected to find in the DADA classroom? Snape? Surely not for Dumbledore was adamant about keeping Severus away from that position—a fact Remus reveled in really. "Do I have to ask again or were you planning on telling me why you've come to see me after daydreaming during my lecture today?"

Lyla smiled guiltily at having been caught. She hadn't meant to not pay attention...ok that was a lie but she'd already knew what he was teaching, so what was the point! She'd pass her exams with or without paying attention. "Yeah," she drawled out, "sorry about that."

Remus rolled his eyes with a sigh, knowing far too well that she wasn't the least bit remorseful. However he knew better than to call her on it. That would only make her deny it and then go into a long spur on how he thought so little of her and they'd get nothing accomplished that way. So he did the only thing he could. Acting as the adult in the situation he fixed her with his patented get-to-the-point stare, which never failed him.

Lyla got the idea and got to the point Remus was so eager to get to. She was rather eager herself to get to her training and figured the sooner she told Remy what she was there for the sooner they could get started. Lyla jumped off the desk getting straight to it, "You! Sir Remy-kins, made a promise to a young and impressionable red headed Gryffindor about the reemergence of her training when classes recommenced and, as you've probably noticed, the semesters well on its way past its starting line."

'Impressionable? Not bloody likely...' Remus thought to himself. "So..." he said slowly trailing off for Lyla to finish.

"So what's say we get started?" She said excitedly causing Remus to laugh, his straight-faced defenses deteriorating as he saw how animated she was.

Remus started back at the basics with Lyla, though he knew very well that she'd remembered everything he taught her that summer. However he felt it prudent to go over it all to refresh her memory. It wasn't until that Thursday that he really started her training.

Lyla, unlike Harry, had training every night, her weekends were still negotiable. For the first two days the sessions started directly after her last class—this was purely for the purpose of completing her review. Thursdays were when Harry had his anti-dementor lessons so both Remy and Lyla agreed that her sessions on that day would be before dinner while every other day of the week it would be held after dinner.

Thursday came only too quickly for Lyla, a fact she was ever-so grateful for. She made sure to take the time between her last class and the few hours before dinner to finish the mounting pile of homework she'd been neglecting that week. As soon as 3 o'clock hit Lyla was out the Gryffindor portrait and on her way to Remus' office on the second floor—where the two had been meeting the last few days.

However Remus wasn't in his office. In fact his office wasn't even opened. Lyla tried jiggling the doorknob but it was locked. The door didn't give way and grant her passage but something else, of a peculiar variety, did happen. Lyla jumped back away from the door as it began to shimmer brightly in the darkened corridors of Hogwarts castle, casting an iridescent light that illuminated her surroundings.

The light dulled as it burned words into the middle of the door. It was a message, from Remy...a riddle actually:

"Lyla:

By now you should have perceived,

That here is where I am not.

Search not high but low to find me,

For where I'm not is hot.

Below, below the sweeping boughs,

Tis where I am to be found.

For you see, I'm not in the castle,

I'm on the .

Remus J. Lupin"

"Grounds," Lyla said dryly. "Golly-gee! Thanks for making that a challenge, Remy-kins," she drawled out sarcastically, turning on her heal as the words faded from the door. It was still quite light outside and yes, as cold as it was that last time she dared to venture outside. When she reached the grounds, Remus was, once again, no where to be seen.

She walked down the slope towards Hagrid's hut, glancing around for any sight of her godfather. She couldn't find him...She was far too preoccupied with trying to search out his hiding place that she forgot the first thing he'd ever driven into her head: Always be on your guard. She wasn't of course and paid dearly for it.

There was nothing around her but snow, the castle behind her and the Forbidden Forest before her. She shivered as the wind rushed about all around her but noticed there was no sound. The wind wasn't making its usual wispy noise as it rustled through the leaves.

Lyla was startled from her unwilling game of Hide and Seek as an unidentified object—she'd thought was the wind—went ripping through the air, whizzing right passed her head, causing her hair to whip across her face. She spun around to try and find the offending object but there was nothing. No one around to throw whatever it was. Nor were there any creatures that could have possibly been whatever it was.

Before Lyla could think anymore on what was going on, she stumbled forward from the yet again unidentified projectile. She still had no idea what it was, and other than cold to the touch there was no indication that would answer her now irritated inquiry. There, of course, wasn't any time nor was any one around to answer her either.

She turned to face the direction it came from only to have her question answered as a snowball crashed into her face. Of all things it could have been, it was a snowball. Obviously someone else was out there with her trying to mess with her and she wasn't appreciating this, especially not when the ambush really started. A barrage of snowballs hurled themselves at the startled Gryffindor, seeming to come from everywhere at once.

Lyla was getting more and more agitated as each and every snow projectile made its intended contact. She was so angry she couldn't focus on dodging the objects so she settled for running—her hands covering her face as she ran. She made it halfway up the hill towards the school when the attack came rushing to a halt.

Pulling her hands down from her face, Lyla looked back down the hill where a disappointed Remus stood, shaking his head to express said dissatisfaction. Lyla groaned silently to herself knowing that she was without a doubt in for a lecture. She completely disregarded the fact that he'd blatantly lured her out there only to sneak attack her with an onslaught of snowballs.

With a sigh of resignation—there was no point in fighting the inevitable—she carefully made her way back down the hill to where Remus was standing. His arms were crossed. His foot was tapping. Lyla had seen this stance many a time; he was definitely in lecture mode.

"I must say Lyla; I am very disappointed in your performance just now. I expected better of you for I know I trained you better than that," he paused as though thinking of what precisely to berate his goddaughter on next. Lyla attempted to explain herself in the minimal amount of time he took to regain his bearings, but he just went on, cutting her off. "Did you not suspect the situation was at least a little shifty?" he inquired.

Lyla made to defend herself but shut her mouth before any sound managed to come out. Truth was she hadn't. She was just focused on finding her godfather and getting started with her training that she just didn't even think to connect the dots. She could have saved herself the embarrassment of repeatedly being pelted by snowballs and being forced to turn tail and flee if she had.

"I didn't think so," Remus muttered much to Lyla's annoyance. "I had hoped you would, but apparently we have a lot of work ahead of us. Perhaps we should spend more time going back over the basics..."

Remus trailed off momentarily before going on and on about how awful Lyla preformed causing Lyla's irritation level to hit an all time high. "Alright I get it!" she screeched in annoyance, not being able to take anymore of her godfather's verbal bashing. Remus looked somewhat affronted at Lyla's tone as well as the fact that she had just shouted at him and it was quite obvious, to Lyla especially, that she'd done wrong.

However she didn't learn from her mistake—meaning she knew not how to shut that gaping hole on her face that the problem inducing sounds billowed out from—for as Remy made to once more lecture away, interminably no doubt, Lyla cut him off. She had the decency to look contrite for her actions though an actual apology was far from making an appearance and that became blatantly more obvious as she spoke.

"Just give me a second chance," she demanded exasperatedly. "I'll prove to you that I can conquer this situation just fine!" Lyla knew that she could back up her indignant exclamation. All she needed was the chance.

Remus sighed as he rubbed at his temples. His goddaughter was just not getting the point. "Lyla, I know that you'll conquer this situation just fine now that you know what's coming. But the point is you won't always know how everything will play out. There are no second chances in real duels and situations like this. You make one mistake and that's it; you're done for. You can't just expect to shout 'Do over' and have everything restart from the beginning again."

"Glad this is just practice then eh?" Lyla shot back quickly. "I understand that there are no _do overs_ out there in the real world. I get that and I didn't expect there to be any. I'm not naïve; I understand the way things are out there even if you think I don't." Lyla took a deep calming breath to regain her composure before going on, slower and quieter than before. "I admit I did no where near my best today. I'm not going to give any excuses nor am I going to refute your analysis."

Remus looked on suspiciously as Lyla paused and who could blame him really? Lyla never went down without a verbal or physical fight of some sort. So her standing there and telling him that he was basically right was a little unsettling and Remus knew better than to take whatever Lyla said at face value.

"However," Lyla drawled out slowly, proving Remus' theory to be true. "This isn't a real life endangering circumstance. This is practice or training if you will and I think I should get another shot at this." Remus wanted to argue his point more but Lyla knew what was coming and decided to beat him to the punch. "How do you expect me to be able to progress at all if you just lecture me about how disappointed you are? Are you going to be disappointed if I were to fail at this in an actual life-threatening situation?"

Remus was silent, not knowing how to answer her question which was more than likely rhetorical anyway. Of course he wouldn't be so much disappointed as devastated. Lyla had become such an intricate part of his life that he couldn't and outright refused to imagine life without her. He conceded with a nod of his head and they got right to it.

"Now the spell I used is a variation of multiple mobility enchantments. It's a conjunction of two Latin words: _mobili—_which is to mobilize, and _nivus—_which is snow. You may have run across a plethora of spells that comprise of _mobili _and an objective, _mobilicorpus_ for example, which is to mobilize a—"

"Corpse?" Lyla asked, purposefully cutting her godfather off, for he was doing more rambling than was truly necessary.

"Retrospectively: yes, but generally speaking: the body, of the living or not. Now the purpose of this particular exercise is to help build up your defensive skills and agility. We'll be working with dodging and deflecting undamaging items for now and eventually work our way up to potentially detrimental objects such as knives and various spells."

"Ok I think I get it, can we get started now?" Lyla asked impatiently, trying desperately to keep the whine out of her voice. She wanted to get to the practical part of the lesson. She entirely disregarded the fact that he was going to be sending pointy objects flying at her in the near future for she knew no harm would come to her that couldn't be fixed later.

Remus got the message without Lyla having to whine, though he decided to give her a bit of her own medicine. He did keep to his promise and gave her a second chance, but he couldn't help but be a smartarse while doing so. With a swish of his wand, he clearly stated the spell which, instead of sending a wave of snowballs at her, sent only two...two that were moving as though in slow motion as well.

Lyla narrowed her eyes, knowing Remus was doing this on purpose. Though, she didn't make any snide remarks about his actions. She merely continued with the lesson as though her godfather weren't being a wanker about it all, and gradually the snowballs increased in both quantity and speed as they barreled towards her. Though the blame for that was entirely all her own.

Instead of dodging them all which would have been the smart thing to do, Lyla kicked and swung at each one that she couldn't dive away from and the results of that were most disastrous. With each strike that actually managed to make contact with its intended target, two more sprung up in its demolished place. And each new snowball that appeared seemed to have had an adrenaline boost the first two did not for they zoomed and swerved at such a high speed that Lyla was starting to have a difficult time following the path of movement.

Lyla cursed to herself realizing her obvious blunder as she made it a point to not lash out at any of the snowballs. It was far too late to fix her blunder so she spent the next half hour or so twirling, ducking and diving away from the soaring objects. It only just occurred to Lyla however—when she was finally starting to grow fatigued—that she was a witch and as such she could have immobilized at least a few of them.

Quickly pulling out her wand, Lyla took aim and shouted, "_Impedimenta maxima!_" Fortunately she added that last part for her jinx would have only stopped a few of them instead of the vast majority. With the snowballs frozen, it seemed, in mid-air, Remus approached, slowly applauding Lyla's performance.

However, that wasn't the smartest thing he could have done. Especially when Lyla was still a wee bit miffed at him for essentially treating her like a child. But more so when Lyla now had control over the very thing _he_ had sent after her. "Let's see how he likes it," Lyla muttered softly to herself before waving her wand and sending the barrage of snowballs towards the unsuspecting turned horrorstruck Remus.

His troublesome goddaughter hadn't slowed them down as he had nor had she only sent a few either. Lyla laughed as Remus tried and failed to outrun the multiple fast moving snowballs hurtling after him from every direction it seemed. Remus looked as though he were caught in a blizzard that only affected the areas he moved to...It was as though he were encased in a warped snow globe of some sort and Lyla loved every second of this new turn of events.

Well that was until Remus, much like Lyla had, realized he had a wand as well and was more than capable of outsmarting a few hundred rampant balls of frozen water. Remus reversed Lyla's charm on the snowballs and redirected them back at her but Lyla had by then already mobilized more ammo and sent them back to Remus. It was utter chaos as Lyla's charm and Remus' mixed and swarmed around the two who, instead of giving up and ending things like anyone with half a brain might have, ran around screaming like a Jobberknoll about to face its' destruction.

It was growing dark on the grounds and dinner was most likely to have started already when Remus shouted that he gave in, growing winded by the impromptu exercise he hadn't been planning to participate in. "_Finite Incantatem!_" they shouted simultaneously, collapsing side by side near the forest, sighing in relief as things went back to normal.

"Well that was bracing," Lyla said breathlessly. There was a moments silence as Remus gazed at his goddaughter in disbelief. However as soon as her trademark smirk broke free and their eyes met that moment of silence was shattered in the most joyous way.

Both had given up any hope of making it to dinner on time as they sat frozen on the snowy grounds as the last remnants of laughter left them. Both were exhausted and cold and yet content to stay in each other presence for as long as they were able to. And they did for at least another ten minutes. Neither spoke, as they looked up at the starry sky, enjoying each others company—neither noticing the dark outline of a dog watching them from the shadows of the forest, longing to be included.

182


	22. Chapter 22

- Chapter 22 -

Lyla vs. Lucy: Round 2

Lyla never would have imagined any form of homework to go along with her training. Remus certainly never mentioned the prospect of it and yet suddenly decided it prudent to assign this not-so-pleasant surprise, despite the surplus of objections that came to Lyla's mind and in so happening out of her mouth as well.

Remus requested that Lyla simply stretch once before she goes to sleep and when she wakes up, as well as her strength building exercises i.e. crunches and push ups and not to mention multiple laps around the Quidditch pitch. Though Lyla dutifully fulfilled all of her extracurricular assignments, did not necessarily mean she was the happiest about them.

She was in fact downright miffed about it all, though she begrudgingly acknowledged the fact that it would be beneficial to her progress in the long run. That however did not help her that next bright and cheery Friday morning for she was utterly exhausted and beyond words for how sore she truly was.

Quite unfortunately that had put her in a right foul mood especially after a particularly awful Divination lesson. Her poor attitude nearly managed to earn herself a detention from McGonagall in her Transfiguration class after the offending previous lesson. Her demeanor didn't seem to lighten by the end of the day so it came as no surprise to anyone that she became a belligerent nuisance—Snape's declaration not hers—during Potions, causing _everyone_ including the Slytherins to be forced into the predicament they were currently immersed in: Saturday detention with Snape.

Lyla sunk low in her seat, attempting to hide from the many glares that were threatening to murder her where she sat. She knew it was her fault for arguing with Snape in the first place but he had everything she'd said coming by goading her into further hysteria, especially when she already wasn't thinking clearly to begin with.

But alas, no one thought to put the blame on Snape for that laid solely on Lyla's shoulder's as was to be expected. Lyla grumbled slightly as she checked the time. Her potion was already finished and was simmering in her cauldron for the allotted time till it was to be bottled--which, for those curious few, was five minutes and counting.

Just five more minutes and Lyla would be free of that classroom till Monday. Free of Snape till...well...till Sunday—but he wasn't expecting anything peculiar to happen of course for surely Lyla wouldn't dream of angering her already unstable Professor on his most loathed day of the year.

"Course not," Lyla quietly snorted to herself at the thought of what she had planned for her favorite snarky potions professor. Her thoughts of all she had yet to prepare were cut prematurely as the door to the classroom shot open with a bang as it hit the wall revealing a rather disheveled and rampantly infuriated Lucius Malfoy.

The class was silent as his eyes scoured the classroom, quickly passing from his son and the Slytherins—disregarding Snape for the time being—and zooming in on the Gryffindors. Though he greatly disliked Harry from their last encounter, _he_ was not the target of his anger for this day. No he found his target in the row before Harry's, looking as gleefully impish as always, causing Lucius' blood to boil upon spotting her.

Lucius scowled at the smirking Gryffindor, swiftly moving towards her, making his approach as overwhelmingly daunting as he could. And he would have succeeded if not for the first snicker that rang out through the classroom, shattering the silence that had encased it not moments earlier. Lucius was fully anticipating this response—his new appendage was after all making quiet a show behind him—however the source of the mirthful sound was not whom he, nor Lyla, would ever have guessed it to come from.

Lyla sat in shock, a small confused grin fighting its way to the corner of her slack jawed mouth. Severus Snape, Potions Master and most feared professor on Hogwarts' staff...was laughing. No. Not laughing...guffawing seems to more accurately describe his doubled over, red faced, cackling state. Needless to say, Lyla was thrown for an absolute loop.

Lucius, momentarily thrown as well by this unexpected turn of events, stared at Snape in shock that was hastily thrown to the side by anger. He'd completely forgotten about Lyla by then for he was far too preoccupied in his endeavor to stop Snape's sniggering. "Severus?" he drawled out lowly, trying to keep his calm—though that didn't seem likely to happen. "SEVERUS! Snape you stop this nonsense at once!" Lucius demanded, having thrown all notions of keeping his calm out the window.

He was so focused on Snape that he didn't notice Lyla and the rest of the class scampering off out of the classroom to lunch—the rest to inevitably tell everyone they came in contact with every last detail of everything they'd witnessed, and Lyla to postpone the unavoidable confrontation as long as she could.

Lyla could still hear Lucy berating Snape as she walked up the stairs from the Dungeons and was all smiles as she entered the Great Hall—immensely satisfied with her devious ways. Her fellow students came rushing towards her in a stampede of gossip hounds upon having spotted her entrance.

Was it true? Did she indeed give Lucius Malfoy a tail? Was Snape really laughing at her mischievous deed? Many more questions of the same variety were thrown at her from every direction and didn't seem likely to stop any time in the near future but Lyla kept her cool. She wasn't about to answer any of them anyway.

She simply smirked and replied in the same manner that she had whenever questioned about this mysterious incident, "You'll all see for yourselves soon enough." Groans of disappointment rang out all around her but Lyla overlooked all of them, proceeding on her way to the Gryffindor table, glancing at an ever-so curious Remus, who—much like the other staff members—was wondering what all the hubbub was about.

No one need wait very long, for soon—just as Snape made his appearance at the Head table looking oddly flushed and uncharacteristically cheerful—the recognizable screeching of a Malfoy was heard echoing from the entrance hall. "Potter! Ugh! Where is that infuriating girl! Potter! You come out and fix this, this instant, do you hear me?!"

The doors to the Great Hall burst open with yet another echoing crack. And when all the dust had settled—figurative dust of course—there stood Lucius Malfoy, better known as Lucy by Lyla, looking just as furious as he had earlier...well perhaps a smidge more irate than before but that was Snape's doing, not hers.

Lucius' eyes furiously scanned the Great Hall once more overlooking all else and immediately zooming in on the shocked into disbelief Gryffindors and a surprisingly stoic and calm Lyla. Though, despite the lack of smirk on the girl's face it was blatantly obvious that she was feeling immensely proud of herself.

Lucius, of course, took notice of this straight away. Scowling in both anger and annoyance he stomped his way down the aisle separating the House tables—Slytherin and Gryffindor specifically—till he reached his target: the most infuriating Potter he'd ever met.

With each step that he took, muffled snickers slowly began to break through the deathly haze of silence that engulfed the Great Hall. Though her fellow classmates' chortlings were cut short soon after Lucy shot his more than likely patented you-will-pay glare their way, that didn't stop the Professor's from reveling gleefully in his predicament.

Well not all the Professor's, specifically more so Snape than any of the others—who were all in too much shock to do much of anything else anyway. Though thinking on it all further, the only probable explanation for Snape finding so much hilarity in the situation was probably his relief that it wasn't him in Lucy's place.

He knew Lyla didn't like to recycle pranks and would now never use whatever she did to Lucius on him. Essentially he was free to find enjoyment in the situation without the fear of it possibly happening to him in the future.

Both Lucius and Lyla ignored Snape's snorts of merriment. Lucius was already far beyond his patience quota and had already given up on his futile attempt to make Snape take him seriously while he was still with tail. Whereas Lyla on the other hand—though very much enjoying her Professor's show of humanity—was far too preoccupied with trying to maintain her innocent I-couldn't-have-possibly-done-anything-wrong expression.

"Lucius, what a pleasant surprise to see you again," Dumbledore's loud booming voice said trying—much like Lyla was—to postpone what would prove to be quite an astounding confrontation. "I hope I'm not too hasty to assume your last visit more than satisfied your curiosity and pacified your concerns for the school's wellbeing and safety, therefore I must inquire, to what do I owe _this_ visit?"

Lyla leaned over to Rylie and loudly whispered, "That's Dumbledore's polite way of saying what do you want now? Though if I were him I'd put a little more emphasis on the exasperation in my voice, just to get my point across more you know?" Rylie was still much too floored to respond and even though Lucy had heard every word Lyla'd stage-whispered he had chosen to not respond—being far too enraged at being mocked from all sides to deal with her and everything else at the same time.

"To what do you owe this visit? Well quite frankly I'm not quite sure myself. I shouldn't be here, no. I should be back at the ministry—working, but instead I'm forced to return here to get one of your miscreants to reverse a curse that no other seems capable of reversing!" Lucius stated, his voice starting out as calm as he could muster but soon grew hysterical.

Dumbledore, having known something of this particular variety would occur settled for the Lyla way out of any sticky situation. He pled the fifth—as though he played no part in her scheme. Played dumb or any other possible way of saying that he had no idea anything had went down horribly in favor of Lucy.

"I must say I'm quite confused, Lucius. What precisely did Miss Potter do?"

"What did she do? WHAT DID SHE DO! Do you not see the extremity protruding from my backside?!" Lucius shrieked frantically, pointing to said spastically swaying extremity.

Lyla could not for the life of her—though try with all her might she did—hold back the snort that erupted from her. This didn't escape Lucius' notice as he turned on his heel bearing down upon the snickering teen, wishing more than ever that he could strangle the mirth from her face. But alas with everyone watching on, his desires seemed far beyond his reach for Dumbledore would surely not allow such physical abuse to befall one of his students.

And as surely as that was true, Dumbledore rose to his feet to stave off the fast approaching confrontation. "Miss Potter," he called forcing all eyes back on him, including Lucius'. "Is this true? Did you affix this appendage to Mr. Malfoy's hind end?"

Lyla sobered immediately and shrugged imperturbably. "It's possible that such a thing may have occurred in retaliation, strictly for the security of my own person." She had stood up by then, not wanting to be caught off guard by lounging around while Lucy was so near and so obviously unstable.

It was a good thing she was on guard too for Lucy, turning in disbelief at what he'd heard, stormed ever closer to the young Gryffindor. And so began Lucy's uncivilized—and not to mention uncensored—rant full of demands for respect as well as the expulsion and numerous other disciplinary actions he wished to be enforced upon the Potter girl.

No one was taking him seriously in the slightest for the more Lucy ranted and raved, stomped and pouted like a two year old during a particularly awful temper tantrum, the more his cat-like appendage—with a mind of its own no less—swished and flicked joyously through the air. This only caused many others to chortle behind their hands which did nothing to muffle the multiple sniggers resounding around the hall and in Lucy's hysterical mind as well.

It was rather much like a cataclysmic chain reaction that set him off really; a diabolical domino effect that no one could've ever foreseen the disastrous, though awfully amusing, scene that soon befell the uncharacteristically silent Great Hall. Though Lyla realized the steps involved in Lucy's ultimate show of insanity, she couldn't help but come to the conclusion that this was solely his fault.

If he'd not let his curiosity get the better of him and came to Hogwarts solely for the purpose of meeting her, then none of this would have happened. Dumbledore wouldn't have sent her to show him around. He therefore wouldn't have pissed her off and in so happening not received a tail for all his troubles. Lucy would never have agreed with Lyla's logic but one must admit that she did indeed have a point.

Lyla let her eyes and mind focus back upon the scene before her. Lucy was still going on about the pride, honor and the high standing of his family while everyone else watched on in amused silence. Snape still had his head down on the table as he fought to compose his person, while the rest of the professors stared back and forth several times from the snorting Potions Master to the enraged and bellowing Lucy who was making quite the scene.

Most of Hogwarts' staff were shocked into silence—as were most everyone else who had far too much dignity to find amusement in others suffering...meaning they were dying with mirth on the inside. Though they'd look back on the scene on laugh till they were blue, they were otherwise too astounded, at that moment, to even process what was going on before their very eyes.

While others—mainly Dumbledore and Remus were either gazing upon the scene with unbridled jollity twinkling in their eyes—two guesses who—or shaking their head in glee-filled reproach.

It wasn't as though Remus was disappointed with what Lyla had accomplished for that wasn't even close to explaining his feelings on the situation. He was, for lack of a better phrase, positively delighted that his goddaughter had given Lucius Malfoy—a man notoriously known for having been a constant thorn in the Marauders side back in the day—a large fluffy tail matching identically the color of his own white-blonde hair. Though for the sake of his appearance as an authority figure he plastered a stern and disapproving expression across his face in hopes that it would mask his amusement.

Unfortunately Remus' amusement was beginning to become too difficult to hide as Lucy continued his rant. Lyla noticed this and reveled in the distant approval she saw shining through her godfather's defenses. "This is a heinous offense, Potter! There is no reason for you to be laughing at my misfortune. A misfortune—might I add—that you had every bit of fault in! I demand that you fix this at once!"

Lyla raised an eyebrow at Lucy's frenzied command, before taking on a more mockingly baffled expression. "I don't think that's all together possible, _Lucy_," Lyla said, smirking gleefully inside as she saw him visibly cringe at her nickname for him; both of them ignoring Snape's manic snort at her nickname for the elder Malfoy. "And besides," she drawled out slowly—causing Lucy's eye to twitch knowing nothing in his favor was going to come from the girl.

"I thought you said my spell wasn't that great," Lyla said barely managing a straight face as she continued steadfastly onward, "I do recall you mocking my magical capabilities after all. So therefore I'm simply _bewildered_ as to how you're so sure I can undo what I did when you clearly think me so inept."

Lucius was on the verge of yet another long rant when Dumbledore chose to reenter the confrontation. "Now Lyla, I'm sure Lucius meant no harm and feels terrible for causing you such discomfort. Now with that said I must ask that you do your best and reverse this extraordinary spell," he said with that ever-present twinkle in his eyes.

Lyla grew suddenly shifty at Dumbledore's request. Notably so, it became more apparent to every set of wondering eyes as she nervously shuffled from one foot to the other, her eyes downcast to make sure to avoid any form of eye contact with anyone. Her stance and sudden nervousness did absolutely nothing to quell the raging fire in Lucy.

It, if anything, only served to pour more fuel on the already out of control flames. Before anyone could inquire why Lyla was looking suddenly so uneasy, she spoke up answering everyone's unasked question, "Well...that's easier requested than actually accomplished. You see...I don't really...know how...to reverse the spell..."

Lyla trailed off, her outer visage remaining remorsefully skittish while on the inside she was smirking wickedly, knowing precisely how to reverse said spell but not quite willing to let the game end just yet and fork over that information.

"You lying little slapper!" Lucius hissed angrily at Lyla. "Stop this game of yours at once and get rid of this!"

Lyla's eyes in response grew wide; utterly affronted and genuinely surprised that he had basically called her a slag in front of everyone. In front of Remus no less! Remus looked about ready to reach for his wand and if it weren't for an equally astonished McGonagall restraining him from doing so, Lyla had no doubts Lucy would have been on the ground some good distance away, begging for mercy.

"Shut your grotty gob, you gormless plonker! You're off your trolley if you think I'm just taking the piss right now. It's your own fault you're in this predicament anyhow, so quit your whinging you sodding prat!" Lyla shouted, losing her cool exterior, storming towards Lucy till she was right in his face, surprising not only Lucius, but his son, multiple other Slytherins _and_ the Head of their House as well.

Lucius shook his head to recapture his otherwise out-of-reach composure. He made to speak—well more than likely screech—once more but Dumbledore seemed to have had more than enough of his attitude. His patience for the elder Malfoy was greatly waning which was understandable, after all he'd put Dumbledore and Hogwarts through over the years.

It had to have happened sometime and Lyla was delighted to say that she had a great part in the ending of Lucy getting his way at Hogwarts. "Lyla," Dumbledore said sternly, though the twinkle had yet to vanish from his eyes. Lyla, for the second time that day, grew uncomfortable as she turned to face the gaze of her Headmaster.

She managed a weak smile that was more on the cringe side than she would have liked to admit, "Yes sir?"

"I understand that you don't exactly know how to reverse this spell. Quite frankly I myself am rather befuddled as to how you managed this feat in the first place, but I must ask that you at least try for it seems as though you're the only one who can undo this."

Now as much as Lyla would have liked to continue her little escapade and wind Lucy up a bit more she knew she had no choice in the matter. She couldn't rightly just refuse to do what her Headmaster had asked of her. She decided therefore to do her best to go out with a bang, in true Lyla fashion. This translated to nothing good for dear old Lucy nor the honor and high standing of his family name.

She sighed dramatically acting like it was all a big bother to her before graciously replying, "It's a bit iffy that it'll work at all and not to mention dicey at best for Lucy here, but I'll try my darnedest." Lyla smiled brightly, pulling her wand out and readying herself for the mayhem she was prepared to cause.

She softly muttered the reversal spell to the protective barrier she had placed around her spell to make her—deliberately—partially transfigured masterpiece impervious to magic's of any variety before moving on to more entertaining pursuits. With a twirling jab of her wand and a mumbled incantation, a string of silvery blue light swirled out from her wand before winding its way around Lucy. He was entirely engulfed for all of two seconds before the theatrics diminished revealing an apparently back to normal Lucy Malfoy.

The elder Malfoy sighed in relief that his nightmare was finally over with. With one final glare directed at the Potter girl, he turned to leave and it was only then that Lyla and all else—staff wise at least—got their first glimpse of her newest work of genius. Lyla had transfigured Lucy's fluffy white _**cat**_ tail into a twitchy little bunny poof of a tail.

Lucius, of course, had yet to notice this and would have walked out none the wiser if it weren't for Snape deciding that then was the perfect opportunity to remind everyone of his newfound humanity once more. Lucius hadn't even cleared all the tables before Snape burst out cackling once more at the sight of the fluffy little poof ball.

And as much as Lyla would have hoped, Lucy would have ignored this...he didn't. The second the sound of Snape's snort-filled chortlings reached his ears, he whipped around and started stomping his way right back towards Lyla, after checking his bottom and coming up not as empty handed as he would have liked.

"Well crud and bugger me backwards!" Lyla exclaimed in mock disbelief. "I guess I got it wrong then, didn't I?" Lucius surprisingly didn't respond. His face though said all his lack of words failed to; growing redder and redder by the minute as he fought to control his ever mounting rage against the sprightly cheerful Gryffindor bint.

The two stood face to face a few feet apart, silently staring at each other. Lucius angrily glaring while Lyla was surprisingly holding his gaze with a believable indifference not even she knew she possessed. However, at the sight of the elder Malfoy's eye twitching, Lyla resolved to get to the punch line of her prank sooner rather than later for it was difficult to tell precisely how long she had till Lucy blew a gasket.

She raised her wand yet again after taking a few hesitant steps towards the thoroughly enraged Lucy. Mumbling out yet another indecipherable incantation, Lyla bopped Lucius on the head twice with the tip of her wand before taking a large step back to watch her tour de force unfold.

A great crackling fizzy noise rang out all around Lucius who was now shrouded in mist that soon evaporated to let prying eyes pour upon Lyla's work of art. However, the results proved to be even worse than her first attempt causing even Snape to cease his laughing escapade.

Lucius immediately knew something was not quite right. Snape had been hysterical not two seconds earlier and then as soon as it had occurred the phenomenon dissipated into a deafening silence that would lead even the most oblivious person to this conclusion. He wanted to say something but as soon as he made to speak something...

white...and furry...flopped onto his face...

She couldn't have. She wouldn't have! There was just no possible way the girl had the guts to do what he feared she had done. But alas! Her next words proved what he feared to be true. So. Terribly. True. "Ok...so I admit giving you ears to match was going a tad over board."

Lyla smiled impishly, cringing away as she waited for Lucy to blow his top. "A tad...A TAD OVERBOARD?! You call attempting to transfigure me into a rabbit a tad overboard? You are disgracing my family's honor and making a mockery of me! That's far more than a tad overboard! This is colossally more serious than just a tad!" Lucius ranted on for a good five minutes more or so, growing more and more hysterical as he went.

Lyla, having already been a pro at tuning annoying people out, smiled apologetically at all those who had yet to perfect the art. However, as skilled as she may have been, she couldn't tune him out forever. "Oh belt up will you?" she asked suddenly causing Lucius to do just that, shocked at the girl's audacity.

"I know I definitely botched that one up, and I am _sincerely _sorry about that, but this next one's sure to be the right reversal so buck up. You'll be back to normal before you know it so you can get to _hopping_ and leave me to enjoy what's left of my weekend."

Lyla finished, amazed that she kept her composure after that last jab. She had a bit of trouble keeping her expression neutral when she saw Lucy's eye twitch but managed exceedingly well. Straightening her posture, Lyla decided she should probably end things before they got too messy, and besides, bunny Lucy was starting to freak her out.

Clearing her throat in an over dramatic manner, Lyla imperially called out—once again making a big show with the wand movements, "_Finite incantatem_." There weren't many theatrics this time, just a flash of orange light and then there stood Lucy finally back to normal, though he didn't trust Lyla enough to just take that as is.

He thoroughly checked his bottom and head before conjuring up a mirror to make sure no further harm was done to his otherwise immaculate self. Satisfied that he was once again back to his noble and perfect self, Lucius made to leave—sending one last particularly awful glare in Lyla's immediate direction—but something halted his departure. Something had suddenly occurred to him.

He turned to face the Potter girl once more, sneering in disbelief. The irony of that particular spell being the one to reverse her jinx on him was not lost on Lucius. Though, of course, Lyla hadn't intended upon it being so either. "You put me through all that just to use the generic reversal spell?!"

Lyla nodded her head, fighting to keep her expression as indifferently innocent as possible. "Why Lucy," she gasped, her indifference fading into astonishment, "Don't tell me you didn't think to use that first..."

"Of course I did you nitwit! It didn't work when _I_ did it!" he snarled, far beyond exasperated by the Gryffindor and her antics.

Lyla smirked faintly, the sight of which was only caught by Remus and the twins—who were expecting the worst to come next—before taking on a haughty tone and replying, "Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you are as inept as your son. Perhaps next time, you should consider choosing a spell that's actually at your skill level, however low that may be." She finished coolly, though giggling inside as she saw the look of outraged horror on both Lucy and Malfoy's face.

Malfoy because Lyla had dared to say such a thing and Lucy because he faintly remembered using the very same line on her previously and now it was back to slap him in the face. How she recalled his exact wording was beyond him yet even farther than that was how she had managed to manipulate the scenario in her favor so that she could then throw that back at him...

Lucius sighed angrily. It was apparent to him now that he had vastly underestimated the girl. He had nothing to respond with. He had already been embarrassed and made a fool of enough as it was so he didn't feel the need to comment on her insolence. Instead he settled for one last lingering threat, meant to at least shake the girl, "You're going to regret ever crossing me Potter."

Lucy turned to walk away with what was left of his damaged pride, but Lyla never was one for letting someone else get the last word and he shouldn't have expected to get it either. "I'm looking forward to it Lucy, really I am," Lyla replied in a bored tone rich with mock enthusiasm.

Lucius' head snapped back to glare at Lyla, scowling murderously as he replied, "It's not something one would look forward to, trust me. You will pay for this."

Lyla raised an eyebrow challengingly, smirking as she moved to win this little battle of threats and cheeky comebacks. "Oh, I'm just _petrified_," Lyla drawled out as mockingly slow as she could. "But of course," she continued on quickly before Lucy could say anything, "you'd know all about petrification, wouldn't you Luce?"

No one spoke for the next few overwrought moments. Lyla and Lucy were locked in an intense stare-down, neither one's pride allowing them to back down. Out of the corner of Lyla's eye she could see a newfound look of admiration generating from Ginny Weasley towards her and if Lyla hadn't already been informed of the happenings of the previous year, the look would have confused her enough to break eye contact with Lucy and consequently lose their battle of wills.

There was no question of course who would win the interminable stare-down, so it came as no surprise to anyone, including Malfoy, when his father scowled and stomped off out of the Great Hall and castle—no hop to be seen anywhere in his steps.

Lyla, feeling overly proud of herself and not too interested in finishing her lunch, decided to skive off and venture back to Gryffindor tower. Though, why she thought she could get away with out a lecture was beyond all. "Miss Potter," Dumbledore called out just as the girl in question was attempting to make her grand get away.

Lyla cringed turning to face what would more than likely be her doom, though it soon became apparent that she didn't give Dumbles enough credit. "In the future if you feel it prudent to give another witch or wizard a tail or any other such extremity be sure to at least inform someone of your misdemeanors so an instance like this can be avoided."

Lyla smirked, knowing she liked Dumbledore for a reason—he was just too cool not to like. "Sure thing guv'nah," Lyla replied cheekily, skipping giddily out of the Great Hall to enjoy the rest of her weekend before Snape brutally axe-murdered her. Which sadly enough, was inevitable, for that very Sunday was a very important day for the smarmy Potions Master. A day he would have very much indeed loved to have kept hidden from Lyla: His 34th birthday.

191


	23. Chapter 23

- Chapter 23 -

It's My Party and I'll Curse Who I Want To

Severus Snape was in an uncharacteristically pleasant mood. This phenomenon, though short-lived, did not escape the notice of others—meaning his fellow staff members—either, as much as that bothered him. It pained him to admit that the source of his buoyant mood was also the source of many of his grievances as well; one Miss Lyla Potter to be exact.

She had just done the unthinkable...the unimaginable even! She had given Lucius Malfoy, notorious cutthroat Death Eater, a tail. Of all the things she could have possibly done, she gave him a tail. The thought was unfathomable to Severus. He couldn't wrap his mind around the thought of this 13 year old witch, who had none too recently learned of the existence of magic and its world, not only getting the best of Lucius once but multiple times.

Severus chuckled to himself at the memory once more. True it was slightly vindictive of him to take pleasure from the elder Malfoy's suffering, but it was just too incredible not to, he reasoned with himself. Besides, Lucius had been the driving force behind all of his misdeeds in life for the most part, so why shouldn't he enjoy the total destruction of any pride Lucius once held?

Severus went to sleep that night with a smile on his face, his good mood still, very much indeed, in tact. Though as stated, this was short lived for it vanished upon his awakening the next morn when he realized precisely what day it was. He had slept well—which was highly atypical of him for usually nightmares plagued his every shut eyed moment—and awoke in the same manner he'd fell unconscious the previous night: aberrantly chipper!

Yawning as he reluctantly dragged himself from the warmth and snug of his massive and overly plush four-poster bed, Severus rubbed at the sleep in his eyes and stumbled his way through his chambers, attempting to make it to his lavatory uninjured. This however never seemed probable for Severus in the early hours of the day and he was quite grateful no one witnessed his less than graceful moments of the day.

A clock up on the hearth's mantle piece showed that it was seven o'clock in the morning—not a time Severus enjoyed for it was still far too early to function at all let alone to do so properly. Though his cheerful mood prevented him from scowling angrily at the time, it did not stop the sneer from crawling up his face as his glance caught sight of his calendar.

Severus swore and nearly growled in frustration. It was Sunday, January the 9th, his 34th birthday...which meant nothing good for him if Albus had any say. Quite frankly to be honest with himself he was at a loss for how he could have forgotten the abominable day when Albus had been dropping hints and reminders at every turn, like the nosey busy-body that he was.

He never liked his birthday, and hadn't celebrated it since his fifth year at Hogwarts. Never saw reason to celebrate the day he and so many others wished never came to pass and neither did any one else for that matter...well besides Albus forcing the other staff members and himself into celebration.

Groaning at what was to come, Severus sighed as he reluctantly went through his daily morning ritual, readying himself for his unavoidable doom that lay in wait for his imminent arrival. Strangely enough, it only took him a whole ten minutes to ready himself for the day, figuring he'd at least make an effort with his appearance for once and perhaps Albus would take it easy on him.

He had on his best robes; his shoes were shined till he could see his finally-back-to-normal scowling self staring back at him. His hair was less greasy than normal, though that would change as soon as he started work on a new potion later that day. Nodding at his appearance in the mirror, satisfied that he looked as presentable as he was going to get, Severus swooped out of his chambers and began his ascent to the upper levels of Hogwarts castle, the Great Hall being his destination this early in the morn.

The notable swing in his swagger—the skip in his step if you will—that had been witnessed the previous day was no where to be seen now as he slouched on up the dungeon stairs, the dark and dank walls around him reflecting his dour mood though it was not because of them that he would stay this way for that was not their right that day. No, that privilege was held by none other than Lyla Potter—not that Severus was any the wiser to this yet, though he should have at least expected something.

Severus reached his destination; scowl still set firmly on his features as he gazed into the obnoxiously loud Great Hall before entering. The sight nearly caused him to sneer in distaste. He could never understand why everyone in the castle was up and wide awake so early when it was a weekend. Surely the students, like any normal teenager, wanted to sleep in and yet there they all were.

Chattering incoherently to their friends about everything and nothing all at once, while trying to stuff as much sustenance as possible into the gaping hole the offending sounds were emitting from. If Severus weren't a member of the staff and so famished, he would have either silenced the each and everyone of those prepubescent numbskulls—which was still high on his list of desires at the moment—or simply left to have his meal in his office—though that was rather farther beyond his reach than silencing his students.

Albus wouldn't have allowed him to skive out of that morning anymore than he would have any other. It was a well known fact that Albus expected every member of staff in the Great Hall at meal times unless they were ill—'Like that blasted Lupin,' Snape thought scornfully—or not altogether with it mental capacity-wise—'Like that thirteen fearing phony herself,' Snape thought smirking maliciously this time as he nearly chuckled at the memory of the Potter girl's Christmas encounter with Trelawney.

Severus sighed as he relented, reckoning he may as well get his impending headache over with sooner rather than later. He reasoned that it was only Albus and the staff who knew of his 'special day', so there was nothing too horrible awaiting his arrival...But oh how little faith he put in the detective skills of the more infuriating of the Potter twins. He should have known—what with her track record and all—that something _outrageous_ was to happen. And something _outrageous_ had indeed happened. Severus had just yet to notice said _outrageous_ thing.

Straightening his posture Severus finally, albeit grudgingly, entered the Great Hall which soon grew steadily quieter the further he trailed into the massive hall. Now experience taught him to be weary of situations like this. He knew right away that something was amiss when the once loudly prattling twits became silent at the sight of him. He shrugged this off though as he moved further on into the vast chamber, putting their awed looks and silence down to the fact that they had witnessed his less than composed state the previous day.

However, he couldn't ignore this for very long. Muffled whispers rang out from those at tables he'd already passed and Severus soon became all too curious for his own good. Weary at what might possibly be damaging to his pride, Severus surreptitiously glanced down at his hind end to make sure Lyla had not given him a new and highly unwanted addition to his person. He didn't even get far enough to catch sight of his rump before something else, far more horrifying than the prospect of a tail, caught his attention.

It was like a mini version of himself staring—well more precisely sneering—up at him as he—in his astonishment—wholeheartedly, yet confusedly, returned. Severus could literally feel his eye twitching as he glared down at what appeared to be a first year parading around in shrunken down identical versions of his robes. It was as though Flitwick had decided to play dress up and scavenged around in his own wardrobe for the costume.

Placing his most scathing look upon his face, Severus snarled out as threateningly nasty as was possible in this situation, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Me?" it squeaked in outrage, "What do you think you're doing?" the little midge version of himself hissed back at him, its voice many octaves above what should be considered legal, which translated to far too squeaky for Severus' liking.

Severus ignored the midge, coming to the horrifyingly obvious conclusion that Lyla had something to do with this. Not just something though. Oh no, _everything_ was more precise. There was no doubt in his mind that she was solely responsible for this first year look-alike fiasco standing before him, sneering it's dislike up at him.

"Potter," Severus hissed out as calmly as he could, tearing his glare from his own personal midget look-alike and settled it on the one and only student ever to get so far under his skin he could almost feel her crawling around. "What did you do?" he asked slowly when he saw he'd gotten her attention.

Her eyes widened in faux innocence. "Why Professor, what ever do you mean?" she smiled and it did nothing to calm his ever mounting anger, it simply made his blood boil even more, add to that the aforementioned skin crawling sensation and you've got yourself a highly perturbed Potions Master.

"You know precisely what I mean, now do not make me ask you again." Severus ground out finding his patience to be temporarily out of reach, though it nearly always was when concerning the female Potter.

"Sir, I assure you—" Potter Lyla started only to be cut off.

Severus didn't want to play games with her then and refused to let her make more of a mockery of him than she already was. "Assure me that you'll get rid of this and never dare attempt such a thing again. Don't just sit there and play innocent either, I see right through that little act of yours."

"Sir, I assure you," she repeated, nearly causing Severus to cringe for he had no doubt he'd been wrong in his assumption of what she was about to say before she even finished her sentence, for her mockingly sweet tone nearly screamed that he'd made an idiot out of himself without any influence on her part. "That I hadn't meant anything horrible by this. I simply wished to wish you a happy 34th birthday in true Lyla fashion. So Happy Birthday Professor," she stated joyfully, nearly bouncing in her seat with excitement.

Severus had to fight to control the muscle spasm from reaching his eye. Instead his cheek twitched and jaw cracked as he made to speak. "You're not going to deny that you did this?" he snarled at her in disbelief, completely disregarding his mind's inquiry as to how she knew it was his birthday to begin with.

"Why would I want to deny something I want you to know was my doing?" Lyla asked impishly, causing Severus' eye to finally give into its twitch.

"Well, will you then enlighten me? What is it...what is it doing here...and how do I get rid of it?" Severus was most surprised he managed to keep his voice steady throughout most of that, though his words were short and had a biting sting to them that not even he knew he possessed.

Lyla, putting on a show for all to witness and remember for years to come, gasped loudly in outrage. "Sir, he's your mini-me!"

"My mini-you?" Severus asked in confusion wondering how on earth the darn thing was her when it more closely resembled himself.

"No, not mini-you," Lyla drawled out exasperatedly, "Mini-me! He's like your own personal midget sidekick!" She was far too elated to state this, and Severus found himself even more confused and yet not curious as to what she was going on about. He just wanted all the nonsense to end, and his 'mini-me' out of his hair so he can get on with his miserable existence.

Severus rubbed at his temple feeling the headache he'd been expecting pounding at his cranium. Sighing, he pinched the rim of his nose, his eyes clenched shut as he hissed out intensely, "Just get rid of it."

Lyla, however refused to end her fun so quickly, "But Professor, I can't do that," she stated as though appalled he would request such an abominable thing from her.

"And why exactly not," he asked slowly, finding his patience wearing thin far more swiftly than he would have imagined possible.

"Because! He's the Robin to your Batman...the Holmes to your Sherlock...the Bullwinkle to your Rocky...the...the Kuwabara to your Yusuke!" Lyla just about shrieked hysterically, waving her arms about to emphasize her hysteria.

Though Severus still had no clue what it was her whole schpiel was actually about, he was, however, positive it certainly didn't answer his original question. "What are you on about?"

The Potter girl sighed in frustration, thinking of how to put it so that he would ultimately get it. Finally a smirk slowly crept its way onto her features causing Severus' blood to frost, "He's the Ronald to your Harry." There was no way Severus could have prevented the cringe that soon overcame him.

"He can't possibly leave you to battle the evils of Hogwarts on your lonesome especially on a momentous occasion such as this!" Snickers were no longer being stifled as Lyla cheekily smiled up at the now fully irritated Potions Master.

Though Severus calmed himself quickly, resolving to not waste his breath reprimanding the Potter girl, for he knew it'd do nothing more than amuse her. No he'd rather just ignore his 'sidekick' and use his time more wisely. Like tracking down the snitch that'd revealed one of his most guarded secrets to that cheeky little chit.

Severus turned and started walking towards the Head Table, turning too soon for he missed the look that was shared between Lyla and his mini look-alike and was soon stopped mid-step as a tiny voice rang out, "Oi Batman, wait for me," it shouted and then...regrettably...there was no more silence in the Great Hall. No more of the blissful quiet that he so longed for...only the mirthful laughter of Miss Potter, the entire student body, and yes, the staff as well.

This new joyous liberation his mini-me set loose in everyone caused breakfast for Severus to be extremely more unbearable that he'd ever thought probable. Severus swore he was in an absolute nightmare as breakfast wore on. The rest of the staff at the Head table were throwing little jabs in his direction, thinking he'd find them as humorous as they and the rest of the blundering dunderheads populating the school did.

But alas, even though he was yet another year older, Severus Snape was still lacking a sense of humor, especially after he saw the new seating arrangements. Usually he was stuck sitting between Lupin and Minerva—and that was horrible enough on a normal day—but this not being a normal day it was exponentially worse than usual.

Instead of the usual seating arrangements there was an extra seat set up beside Minerva with what appeared to be a booster seat hooked into it and if Severus had not already seen this _sidekick_ of his he would have suspected he'd be sitting next to Flitwick that morning. Unfortunately, Severus wasn't that lucky nor was he naïve enough to believe that he was.

With every aforementioned jab to his person, his mini-me would shriek loudly, giggling as though it were the funniest thing in the Wizarding world, which granted it more than likely was—at that moment anyway. Though Severus was most impressed with his ability to stop himself from strangling his darn birthday surprise, didn't mean he enjoyed the situation in the slightest.

It was quite the opposite in fact. He tried to get rid of the darned thing but if intimidation didn't work to scare it off, Severus knew no other option short of violence—for either physical or magical variety would be frowned upon by Albus who had taken quite a shine to the offending creature. So rather than get rid of his sidekick, Severus decided to simply ignore it. However, that didn't fair him any better either.

Try with all his might, Severus could not seem to ignore his mini-me. Everywhere he fled to, everywhere he turned _it_ popped up out of nowhere, scaring the wits out of him far better than any of his encounters with the Dark Lord ever could or ever had—not that he'd admit this of course.

The fact that he couldn't do anything was rattling his last nerves. It was rather irritating to have to go everywhere with an unwanted entourage you couldn't relieve yourself of. So nerve bothering in fact that it caused Severus Snape, Potions Master and more than likely the best potions brewer Hogwarts had ever seen, to completely botch up one of the simplest potions ever created. Seriously it was nearly impossible foul up and yet he did.

He had tried to ignore his mini-me and was doing a fairly good job until the creepy little midget started copying every one of his movements, dragging a mini cauldron of his own over beside Severus before getting started. A mini cauldron that looked suspiciously like one of his own...try as he might Severus could not just shrug off the familiarity of that cauldron just the same as he couldn't ignore his sidekick.

All throughout the potion making process he kept getting sidetracked thinking about it till, after further perusal, he angrily came to the conclusion that it was in fact his cauldron. And his Master's special addition cauldron no less! shrunken down to nearly ¼ its original size. Regrettably Severus had figured this out as he was adding an ingredient and being that he wasn't paying any attention—being far too caught up in his outrage to notice much of anything else—it came as no surprise that he was adding the _wrong_ item.

Outraged and annoyed beyond fathomable explanation after the devastating fiasco literally blew up in his face—singing his eyebrows and tingeing his entire face black—Severus decided it best to focus his attention on more fruitful endeavors. So rather than setting all his energy on ignoring the little bugger—who'd managed to brew the potion perfectly in _his_ shrunken cauldron—he decided to set forth and find the culprit who'd provided Lyla with the information required for her to achieve her latest debacle.

His first suspect: Lupin, already decided upon, Severus stomped out of his dungeon classroom, mini-Snape skittering along behind him. He planned to force Lupin to confess to his crimes one way or another and by any means necessary.

"I'm sorry Severus, but I'm afraid I had nothing to do with Lyla's unruly actions," Remus said slowly, not even bothering to look up from the paper he was grading when his irate colleague burst through the door.

"Do you actually expect me to believe that rubbish?" Severus managed to drawl out without hissing. To be honest it was quite difficult. Lupin was showing the utmost disrespect, in Severus' eyes, by casually ignoring him.

"I don't expect you to believe anything," Remus started, reaching for the next essay on the massive pile steepled precariously on his desk. "I certainly can't force you to believe anything you don't want, but it is the truth. Why don't you just ask her who her informant was yourself?" he finished with a sigh, shaking his head as he made a few red marks on the paper.

Severus just about snorted at the suggestion but managed to control himself enough to merely scoff, "You know as well as I do how useless that would undoubtedly prove to be. I've never understood the female capacity to avoid a direct answer to any question and where Miss Potter's concerned I'm even more bewildered," Severus scowled thinking of all the times he'd stumbled upon the young Gryffindor and she 'd done just that.

"The only thing I'd get out of interrogating her is a migraine from her interminable babbling," he finished with a sigh, leaning against a spare bit of wall as he rubbed at his temple, already feeling the oncoming headache from just thinking about the possible encounter.

Remus chuckled at the truth in his old schoolmate's words. "Yes that's quite true," he said through lingering chortles. "Lyla's quite possibly the only one I know that could say so much without actually telling you anything...she reminds me of James and Lily so much," he said almost too softly, but Severus heard him.

Severus felt a fleeting shot of pain course through him in a place he'd never admit to feeling such a sensation. He nodded his head however, agreeing—for what was probably the first time—with Lupin. He'd seen it before of course, how much like both Potter and Lily she'd become and it both angered and saddened him. However he never lingered long on these thoughts, especially when others were nearby.

"So what do you suggest I do then?" he asked angrily, trying to conceal the strained hurt in his voice.

"Well normally I'd say stop beating around the bush and ask her yourself, but considering we just went over how useless that would be, why don't you ask some of her other Professors?" Remus suggested. He'd noticed Severus go stiff at the mention of Lyla's parents but chose wisely not to comment on it. "I do believe I saw her speaking with Minerva just the other day..." he said absentmindedly, moving on to another essay as he spoke.

"And when precisely was just the other day?"

"This past week."

Severus waved off the suggestion quickly, "She wouldn't have had enough time to think this scheme up."

Remus finally tore his eyes away from the stack of essays on his desk. "Surely you're joking!" he exclaimed, eyes widening in shock that Snape would actually believe such an absurdity. Remus shook his head at the Severus' density, "There have never been any limits or time restrictions on Lyla's pranking abilities. Most of her schemes are spur of the moment anyway so I highly doubt it impossible for her to accomplish this feat in such short of time."

Severus thought on this for a second, "Minerva you say..." he muttered as he spun on his heal, more determined than ever to find out the identity of the traitorous blabber mouth who'd landed him in the cringe worthy situation he was currently marinating in.

"Later Lupin!" his sidekick shouted as he too spun on his heal, determination stricken across his face as well. It was then that Lupin finally started snickering and then that Severus realized why he refused to look up at him. He couldn't keep a straight face and take him seriously when he had a three foot tall escort following behind him.

It took all the strength Severus had in him not to turn around and curse the both of them. It was his birthday after all; he should be allowed to curse whoever he wanted without there being repercussions! Regrettably though, he knew there would be and so settled for walking away with his head held as high as it could go. He had more pressing business to take care of anyway.

Lupin had been too obvious he thought and McGonagall was more than liking going to prove to be a rather large waste of his time. And he was quite right; she was, spending more time fawning over his mini mirror image than actually providing him with anything informative. Severus was beginning to get desperate for answers. So desperate in fact, that he even contemplated asking Trelawney to use her Inner Eye to tell him who'd dun it.

He needed to know...needed to exact some form of revenge that would leave a lasting message to all who even thought about badgering him like that again. And since he couldn't harm a student—more like wasn't allowed to for he knew he was certainly more than capable of doing so—which would have been his preference, he sought to cause harm elsewhere.

Though each suspect he spoke to only led him to others who only pointed there fingers in others' directions, leading him on a manic wild goose chase all over the castle. It was useless. At this rate he'd never find out and using Occlumency on a student was frowned upon and Albus would, once again, not allow it—no matter how much Severus whined and moaned about it.

For whine and moan he most certainly did after collapsing in the Headmaster's office, exhausted from his pursuits that day. Dumbledore watched his colleague in silence. Although he very much indeed found the situation quite humorous, he was not about to admit his involvement in Lyla's scheme any time in the near future.

Lyla was quite pleased with her surprise birthday gift for Snape. Or as everyone was undoubtedly calling it: her birthday prank on Snape, whereas she had just been referring to it as O.M.S—Operation Mini-Snape. She had been getting pats on the back and praises for her _outrageous_ stunt all day—not that she minded mind you. For it was quite the opposite actually, she wasn't an attention whore by any means, but she did revel in the result of her actions.

Snape—after angrily, and not to mention ungratefully, placing the blame on her—spent the better part of the morning trying as hard as he could to ignore his own little 'Mini-Me.' Though that wasn't part of the arrangement Lyla had made with Mini-Snape and she was quite giddy that he'd not let the other Snape intimidate him into scampering off with his little mini cauldron—another nice touch on Lyla's part for she searched high and low for that darn thing before settling for shrinking one of Snape's to make it more authentic.

His sidekick, although specifically there to brass Snape off, was also an informant-like spy of Lyla's so instead of tailing her Professor around all day, she was free to relax and bask in the praise of her masterful scheme. And relax and bask she did.

That entire glorious day, Lyla could be found lounging in the Gryffindor common room, sprawled out on the couch nearest the fire. Most accused her of hiding from Snape, but she didn't dignify those _outrageous_ claims with a response. She simply ignored the igits who bothered her and simply resorted to staring blankly at the ceiling of the common room.

All was quiet and calming...most of the day. Lyla nearly fell asleep on the couch, opting to skip lunch and dinner, and would have done so if everyone hadn't decided then was the perfect moment to stomp their noisy selves into the common room.

Lyla could feel her eye twitching but, being in such a relaxed and overly-pleased-with-herself mood, she restrained herself from hexing any innocent ickle firsties who--no surprise there—were making a good majority of the racket. She had more success ignoring them than Snape had when trying to ignore his mini-me.

Though that could have been because everyone, who had just—a millisecond before—been chattering about obnoxiously, fell suddenly silent. Lyla was entirely too used to this sudden appearance of the deafening silence and therefore took no further notice of it. She smiled contentedly, relaxing deeper into the plush couch.

Thinking perhaps her housemates had finally learned some common courtesy, Lyla attempted to fall back into the recesses of her mind and was doing remarkably well with that. Well that was until someone poked her in the face.

Lyla sighed softly to herself—wondering briefly who the bloody hell pokes someone in the face?—before cracking one eye open to see who the idiot with the death wish was. She was entirely surprised to find herself staring into deep pools of obsidian belonging to none other than Severus Snape's sidekick or otherwise known as Mitch the Midge.

Finally moving into a sitting position Lyla looked down at Snape's mini-annoyance in confusion. "Aren't I paying you to badger Snape, not poke me in the face?" she asked, cocking her head to the side as she spoke.

"You are, but the day is over and you're not paying me for overtime so I'm here to collect," the midge spoke slowly, obviously struggling to get his Snape drawl exact, which Lyla was surprised to note: he did an amazing job at. His hand was outstretched awaiting his compensation for the days exhausting task.

Lyla looked down at Mitch, a serious down-to-business expression etched upon her face. "I expect a detailed account of the day's events first," she said haughtily, both putting on a show for their audience.

Mitch sighed but complied, going on to explain all of what had gone on that day. He went into explicit detail of all the ways Snape tried to scare him off then ignore him when that didn't work—making sure not to leave out the potion explosion when he noticed his shrunken cauldron.

As he spoke about Snape's expedition in wild goose chasing around the castle, Lyla reveled even more in the looks of admiration on the faces of her nosey housemates, more specifically the Weasley twins. She had earned major brownie points in their opinions for she had accomplished the impossible or well...more accurately, the never before attempted and what's more! She had gotten away with it!

She had gotten caught, or more like didn't bother to deny her involvement in Snape's birthday surprise, and yet still got away unscathed and unpunished. It was obvious that only she would have had the nerve and _audacity_ to commit such a travesty on Snape of all people and yet she still walked off without so much as her hand slapped.

Fred and George were amazed...and maybe a little awestruck. They get away with things every once in a while but not to the extent that Lyla did. She was simply masterful in their minds and they couldn't wait to see what she'd do next.

Mitch had finished his tale of the day and stuck his hand out once more, awaiting his payment. All was silent as him and Lyla stared each other down, those around them glancing from one to the other in apparent confusion, none daring to make a sound. Suddenly and very much without warning, the two burst out laughing and didn't stop nor calm down for many a minute.

"You're my new best friend," Lyla managed to snigger out through her giggles, throwing her arm across Mitch's shoulders to steady herself.

"Oi!" Rylie shouted, pouting at her best friend's declaration. "I've been replaced by Snape's midge?!" she asked indignantly, though the smirk playing on her lips told Lyla that she was merely joking. Though her indignant response only caused the two of them to laugh more.

"So Lyla, who exactly was it that told you about Snape's birthday?" asked George curiously after the laughter had ceased to a dull roar in the echoing silence of the common room.

Lyla pulled a you're-not-serious expression at his question. "Oh, come now my favorite litt'l twinsies, you don't expect me to betray my confidante do you?" she said gazing at them in mock disapproval.

The twins pouted but left well enough alone, knowing Lyla wouldn't tell them. Which was true, she most definitely wouldn't have. No one besides her needed to know how much of an instigator Dumbledore really was, for if it wasn't for him, none of the days events would have come to pass. Yep, Lyla definitely had a lot to thank him for. She knew she liked that crazy ol' coot for a reason.

200


	24. Chapter 24

- Chapter 24 -

Innocent: Part II

The weeks following all the excitement Lyla had sprung on Hogwarts proved far too eventless for Lyla's taste. Unfortunately though, she had absolutely no time to do anything about the aforementioned un-eventfulness of the slowly passing weeks. Between classes, training sessions with Remus, and private work out—homework—sessions, Lyla was exhausted beyond any and all discernible words.

She was, in fact, so busy she hadn't even noticed when January ended and February began. Thursday nights were spent doing whatever homework she'd neglected during the week with Hermione, Rylie and Ginny—who had taken quite a shine to Lyla ever since the tail incident with Lucy. Since Lyla was still doing all the same work as Hermione, just not attending the same classes, the two worked congenially together to learn the material given.

McGonagall had finally relinquished Harry's Firebolt back to him and technically the trio had made up...or at least would have if Ron had not chosen to start being a wanker again. They were so close yet so far from being friends again that it left Lyla temporarily saddened when she thought on their predicament.

Well in truth she was more annoyed than saddened for—other than Hermione becoming far too clingy for Lyla's liking—Ronald had absolutely no solid proof that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers and therefore no right to make such a fuss just because _he _lost _his _rat. He was becoming a downright nuisance in Lyla's opinion; always either moping about over Scabbers or screaming at Hermione. It was rather ridiculous if you asked her.

It was actually because of this that the girls—meaning Lyla, Rylie, Ginny and Hermione—had taken to their little study sessions more and more over the passing weeks. Though to be honest their study time was spent mostly boy-bashing than anything else really—Rylie staying quiet for the most part since she still didn't like speaking in front of others especially Hermione. Though her opinion on the matter would have been shot down on the grounds of being biased anyway since it was clear to all she fancied Ron.

Speaking of fancying boys or boys fancying girls, Oliver was becoming more and more obvious in his attempts to woo Lyla. Though, this is stated once more with irritatingly strong emphasis, Lyla didn't quite take notice of any of this, for half the time he'd caught her after a particularly tiring session with Remus. And to be quite fair it wasn't as though he was trying hard or anything to make it known to her that he liked her. He didn't come right out and say it or anything.

Oliver had tried time and time again to get a few moments alone with the usually spirited Gryffindor but every time he spoke to her it was about Quidditch and Lyla—religiously hating the sport—couldn't help the fact that she didn't rightly give a damn that Slytherin had _narrowly_ defeated Ravenclaw that Saturday for she hadn't gone to the game anyway. Nor could she help the fact that she had been getting less and less sleep every night.

So you see, technically it wasn't her fault she'd had a narcoleptic fit right there in the middle of the hallway while Oliver was in full on fanatic mode. She was entirely lucky however that he'd came to his senses in time to catch her before she fell and then nice enough to carry her back to the common room. Not that he didn't like having her in his arms, as the twins tauntingly pointed out upon spotting the future couple, causing the flushed Gryffindor Keeper to drop Lyla on an empty couch and flee.

Lyla supposed she should have listened to him babble then—she still turned to mush at the sound of his accent—for neither of the two had a spare second throughout the next few weeks for there seemed to be an outbreak of totalitarianism at Hogwarts.

Oliver was turning into a complete Dictator with Quidditch practices five times a week, so that and the fact that this was his NEWT level year, he literally had no time for Lyla as she had no time to spare for him for Remus was catching the same tyrant bug as Oliver—though to be fair Oliver wasn't as strict and unrelenting as Remus was.

Remus didn't even give Lyla weekends off. Everyday after dinner—barring Thursdays' before dinner sessions of course—Lyla was practicing various blocking and reversal spells while dodging a wide assortment of objects as well. They had moved swiftly though the blunt heavy objects, like books and such, and had been working with knives and other sharp entities but now, they were finally going to be wrapping things up.

It was a Saturday. February the 5th to be exact, and while everyone else was excitedly chattering amongst themselves about the soon to be held Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw Quidditch match, Lyla was eagerly getting ready for her training session with Remus.

Since it was her last day of that specific session, instead of her training simply being held after dinner, Remus decided to make a whole day out of it. Lyla wasn't complaining any since she didn't want to go to the game anyway. She would much rather be doing something constructive.

Surprisingly it was a nice cool day and for the first time in a long time, not snowing. Though Lyla would miss her snowball fights with Remy she was ever-so-grateful for the semi-warm weather. Lyla sighed contentedly, tearing her gaze from the clear sky out the window of the 3rd year girls' dormitory and set about getting changed into her training clothes, which weren't anything out of the ordinary since Lyla knew they'd be outside.

She pulled on a pair of nice fitting blue jeans and a black and white jumper which she made sure would keep her nice and warm since she'd already been outside earlier for her morning run and remembered it being a bit nippier than it looked. She pulled her hair back in two braided pig tails and slipped on her trainers before racing out the door towards the Great Hall for breakfast.

She'd been working on dodging and deflecting knives and other sharp objects all week so she was relieved to finally be on the last day of that section where Remus would finally let her test out the spell and her precision with it—on a dummy of course for Remus wasn't foolish enough to think he could dodge all that Lyla in her youth could.

Lyla made it to the Great Hall without damaging herself—she was starting to feel a bit uneasy about that because she hadn't become better acquainted with the double doors in quite some time. The whole Great Hall was abuzz with excitement and it took Lyla a few moments to realize exactly why that was.

Sighing, she rolled her eyes muttering, "Boys," before taking her seat next to an equally disturbed Hermione and fellow red-head Ginny—Rylie was seated next to _Ronald_ across from the three girls. It seemed as though every single boy in all of Hogwarts was making their way to swarm around the Gryffindor table or more specifically around Harry and his Firebolt.

They were making such a fuss that Lyla almost lost her appetite only succeeding in losing said appetite and pushing away her bangers and mash when Malfoy approached the prize of Gryffindor team. "Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" he drawled out in that annoying haughty tone of his that never failed to put Lyla in a dour mood.

Before anyone could respond, Lyla decided to shut him up and be on her way. "A right shot better than you can handle your own I'd wager," she snapped in irritation, not at all liking to have to start her day off with a Malfoy confrontation she hadn't already planned. Having nothing to gather up—having not brought anything with her in the first place—Lyla quickly rose to her feet and pushed her why past a glaring Malfoy and co. to make her way out of the Great Hall and Hogwarts altogether.

She didn't want Malfoy to put her in a bad mood when she was so set on having an amazing day training with her favorite godfather. However Remus soon crushed her hopes for a wonderful day when he revealed to her that their session was to be put on hold till after the Quidditch match because he felt he owed it to Harry to show his support of him as well.

Lyla understood that...somewhat, but it didn't stop her from feeling slightly upset. Why did Remus have to owe Harry anything let alone support him? It wasn't as though he was his godfather or anything...Lyla did not want to admit that she was jealous because she wasn't. She just never had to share Remus with anyone before and it was a strange new situation for it seemed as though she were fighting for attention with her own twin.

"It must be a guy thing," she muttered to herself, wandering back up to her dormitory. What was the big deal with Quidditch anyway? It was a barbaric sport with no point whatsoever. And more specifically not something she would have ever pegged Remy for being a fan of. Lyla had crinkled her nose in distaste when Remus invited her to join him to cheer Harry on—not that he as a teacher would pick sides or anything—but like she oh-so-emphatically stated, she would have rather consumed a whole jar of pickled rat spleen then go to another abominable Quidditch match.

"How the ruddy hell do you pickle something anyway," Lyla mused to herself, her face screwed up in thought as she shook her head, gazing around the empty third year girls' dormitory. "Now what am I s'posed to do?" she sighed pulling at the collar of the sweater she'd hastily thrown on not even an hour ago. Shrugging in answer to herself, Lyla changed out of her outside outfit and into something more comfortable to lounge about in and possibly train in later that day—that was if Remy decided Harry didn't need anymore _support._

While changing, she decided she may as well get her homework done since everyone was out of the castle and all was quiet.

...Yes, she was _that_ bored... and surprisingly not in the mood to cause mischief.

...No the apocalypse was not on the horizon either...

Gathering her books and all the work supplies she would need, Lyla traipsed back down the stairs and into the cozy common room. Dropping everything that'd been in her arms to the ground by the fire, Lyla soon followed suit and began the long arduous process of finishing the essays for her many mandatory classes. The hours seemed to flit by Lyla, though she knew for sure she was not having the slightest bit of fun writing about the correct process of preserving, pickling and drying various roots, plants and animal bits.

The irony of this last essay was not lost on Lyla though she didn't find the slightest bit of hilarity in it at all. "Yeah, you think your funny," Lyla muttered darkly to herself, glaring at her finished essay as she packed her things. The match had to be over by then. Lyla ran her things back up to her dorm wanting to be as far from the common room as possible should Gryffindor have lost.

Oliver would have been downright unbearable and Lyla found she wasn't in the right temperament to deal with him pissing and moaning as though it were the end of the world. However she knew she wouldn't be able to hide forever and decided she had better just get it all over with. Just as she reentered the common room all of Gryffindor decided then was the perfect time to come bursting through the portrait.

The jovial voices cheering out every now and again gave reason for Lyla to believe that they were celebrating their victory over Ravenclaw. "As though that wasn't painfully obvious before that pointless observation," Lyla scoffed cynically to herself as she had been doing all day. It was just one of those days where she felt it prudent to mock herself since there wasn't anyone else around worthy enough to banter around with.

Well besides Hermione but she looked too preoccupied with that gargantuan book of hers: _Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles_. Why on earth she was reading about muggles when she herself was one was beyond Lyla—who hadn't and refused to bother with the school's Muggles Studies class for she had no desire to see things from their perspective. Meaning she, unlike Hermione, did not find it fascinating.

Lyla shook her head from her thoughts, and began to listen to her fellow housemates ramble on excitedly about the game. She smiled a small grin that more closely resembled a wince of some sort. The more they spoke the more Lyla longed to slink away from the celebration, feeling more like an outsider looking in—excluded from everyone else—than an actual part of Gryffindor house.

Though the blame for that was entirely her own and she knew this. Rolling her eyes with a sigh—it wasn't as though she truly gave a damn anyway—Lyla crept silent and unseen over to where Rylie was standing alone, ready to discuss the 'most amazing Quidditch match of Hogwarts history!' Lyla snorted sarcastically as she thought this.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you. Ok, let me quickly run through the major plays and everything before Oliver finds you, and believe me he will. He's already asked me three times where you were," Rylie said hurriedly glancing to and fro, no doubt on the lookout for Gryffindor's awfully attractive—and apparently determined—Quidditch captain.

Rylie was seriously the best friend anyone could ever hope to have. She knew Lyla didn't want to go to the match that day but more importantly wouldn't go even though Gryffindor's heartthrob had begged her to. Therefore she'd do the only thing a friend could in a situation like this and act as Lyla's informant of sorts, and inform her she did.

Lyla didn't know what she would've done had she not run into Rylie then for just as Rylie had finished her _awe-inspiring _tale of _death-defying_ feats preformed by all in what was _undoubtedly _the Quidditch match of the _century_, Oliver honed in on the pair, having finally spotted the red head.

(A/N: I will not be held accountable for anyone who choked on the sarcasm in that last sentence.)

"Lyla," he said breathlessly, smiling widely from ear to ear and causing the breath within Lyla herself to be lost from her as well. All else—as cheesy as it sounds—seemed to melt away as the two stared dreamily at each other, Rylie slinking off to allow the two some privacy. "S-so," Oliver stuttered out, breaking them both out of whatever trance they were in, "What did you think?"

Lyla was momentarily thrown, having forgotten everything that'd been going on before she got caught up in his eyes. She shook her head to clear her mind of its haze. Though even after that she still couldn't get her mind to focus, so she had no clue what Oliver was talking about. "Beg pardon?" she asked dumbly.

Oliver looked a bit worried and put off as he spoke, "The game Lyla. What did you think of it? You did go didn't you?" he asked skeptically, his expression already taken over by sadness.

Lyla let loose a string of disbelieving sounds, looking shocked and appalled. "This is me we're talking about here Oliver!" she stated without really answering his question and therefore technically not lying either. "I thought you did remarkably amazing," 'From what I heard at least,' she thought to herself, smiling sweetly up at his much taller form.

"Really," Oliver sighed, grinning in relief, "you did?" Lyla found this ever-so-adorable, which caused her to continue with her not-a-fib.

"Yeah, I mean..._I_ was impressed and everyone around here knows how difficult _that_ is to achieve." Lyla said smiling ever so slightly at the very boy she happened to fancy. She actually found herself smiling a lot more whenever he was around or even mentioned.

Oliver blushed at the praise he was getting from Lyla, the very girl he so happened to fancy a lot more than he'd ever fancied anyone before. She was actually the only girl or person to ever make him blush either. "So..." he said slowly, shaking the rouge from his cheeks while taking a hesitant step closer.

"So," Lyla repeated waiting for him to continue.

"What was your favorite play?" he said suddenly as though the thought had just came to him, causing Lyla, who had been leaning forward in anticipation, to lose her balance in what most closely resembled a real world version of an anime fall.

Oliver reached out to steady her. "Whoa, you alright there?" he asked through a surprised chuckle.

This time it was Lyla's turn to blush—an occurrence widely known to hardly ever occur. "Yeah," she replied quietly, nervous as he was still holding her closely to him.

"Come on, let's move over here and sit down," Oliver suggested, tugging Lyla over to the secluded corner where Hermione was still reading. Hermione barely spared a glance to the two as they seated themselves near her. She merely continued ignoring the happenings of the common room, seemingly fully enthralled with her book, only breaking focus when Harry hesitantly approached her.

Lyla was glad her brother was making an effort to repair the strained relationship between the two. She smiled slightly at the pair before her attention was brought back to Oliver who was staring at Lyla strangely—mouth dropped and eyes wider than she'd ever witnessed. He had apparently just taken notice of what exactly she was wearing. He's a guy; shouldn't that be the first thing he notices? Especially if it's significantly scantier than he's accustomed to?

"Blimey Lye, that's some outfit there. Weren't you cold outside in that?" He asked still staring at her with that strange unidentifiable look in his eyes. Lyla had a hunch on what that look was and was quite giddy to note that it was her that put it there.

"I didn't go outside in this," Lyla laughed, gesturing to the nearly indecently short maroon one-piece she was garbed in, "I'm not that much of a div you know."

"Well then, why are you dressed like that? Not that I'm complaining or saying you don't look nice because you look fantastic and...I'm going to shut up now." Oliver rambled looking more and more flushed the more he let tumble from his mouth.

Lyla wanted so very much to laugh at him, but seeing him as embarrassed as he was stayed her giggles. So it was with a restrained smile that she spoke. "I got here ahead of everyone else since I had to get ready for my workout session and didn't want to miss the after-party," she replied casually, feeling slightly awkward that she had to fib. She didn't lie about getting there ahead of everyone, or about her training session, but the fact of the matter was that she couldn't have cared less about missing the after-party.

Oliver half nodded before catching himself, "You workout?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah," Lyla drawled out slowly, her lips forming a teasing grin, "Couldn't you tell?" she jokingly flexed her arms. Oliver laughed and suggested the two workout sometime together and all Lyla could do was smile shyly, and nod. She was happy he suggested the future excursion because it meant he actually wanted to spend time with her.

A moment of silence over came the two as they stared at one another, Oliver trying to inconspicuously scoot closer to the one he fancied and Lyla pretending not to notice his less than stealthy movements. Oliver cleared the nervousness from his throat, gaining Lyla's attention while doing so. She turned to look at him and it was as though time slowed for him as the nerves came rushing back to block his words once again.

Lyla became distracted for a second as she listened to Harry's failed attempt at getting Hermione to have fun with everyone else, but soon tuned him out so that she could focus more on the one boy she found herself fancying more and more each and every day.

Harry had moments before asked the reluctant Hermione to come join in the party, only to have her turn him down stating that she, not only had too much work to do, but that _he—_meaning Ronald—didn't want her to. And of course this is where Oliver foolishly tries to say something, clearing his throat to speak and opening his mouth only to shut it once more as he was cut off by the Britain's biggest prat in Lyla's opinion.

"If Scabbers hadn't just been _eaten_, he could have had some of those Fudge Flies. He used to really like them—" Ron basically shouted across the common room, obviously having heard Harry and Hermione's conversation. This comment of his would not come without consequences for Ronald. Lyla was just too preoccupied with chasing the sobbing Hermione upstairs to tell him off right good and proper like he ought to be told off.

She had of course shot an apologetic smile Oliver's way before taking off, slightly upset that their time together had been so short, but more focused on making sure Hermione was ok to bother with much more than that. Though it was obvious that it was a waste of time altogether for Hermione, in a state of unreasonable hysterics, had locked herself in the lavatory and refused to come out.

Lyla could hear her sobbing and felt an odd inexplicable rage build up inside her. Though it was split and equally aimed at two persons. Ron was the main source of her anger for his insensitive actions and out right stupidity, though Hermione was at a close second.

Now Lyla, being inarguably more mature than her fellow classmates, thought Hermione to be utterly foolish for letting someone—who was known for being habitually moronic—get to her so much. And sadly that was irritating her more than anything else at the moment.

Not only that her little flirt session with Oliver wouldn't have been cut short if it weren't for those two lovebirds, but that it wouldn't have gotten to this level if 'Mione hadn't let it. All in all, Lyla pitted all the blame on Hermione, though somewhere in the back of her mind Lyla knew she was in part also to blame.

It wasn't as though Hermione begged her to chase after her. It was just human nature. When one of your friends is in need of comforting how could anyone with even an ounce of humanity deny them of it? Lyla found this bit of humanity slightly bothersome at times, though try as she might, even she could not ignore its determined pull.

Lyla thought it a bit more than a tad odd that she would stick up for Hermione so when not even two months ago the two girls couldn't even stand to be in the same room with each other without wanting to gouge the others' eyes out. Hermione still greatly annoyed Lyla, there was no doubt about that in anyone's mind, not even Hermione herself, but Lyla admitted the fact that they were somewhat on friendly terms. No matter how much that notion irked her so, she'd own up to it in the end.

It soon became apparent however, that despite her best intentions, Hermione just wanted absolutely nothing to do with anybody at that point in time. And Lyla couldn't rightly blame her either. It was after all a downright rotten thing did happen to her.

Clearly taking the hint that she was neither needed nor wanted there—Hermione explicitly stated this to be so after all—Lyla traipsed back on down the stairs and into the still bustling common room. She made a bee-line for her twin, smacking Ronald upside the back of that thick cranium for his earlier indiscretions on her way.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" the culprit indignantly squealed, though Lyla refused to respond to the igit's inquiry.

She instead kept her attention on her brother—all the while inadvertently ignoring Oliver completely much to his inevitable disappointment. "Harry," Lyla drawled out, her voice dripping with sweetness causing Harry to choke on the words he was attempting to spew out to his friend.

He turned slowly, cringe notably set in place as though he knew nothing good was to come next. "Yes?" he asked reluctantly.

"Your map, Harry," she replied shortly, "Where is it?" Lyla asked directly, not in the mood to beat around the bush. She figured she'd get what she wanted faster if she got right to the point.

"Why do you want to know?" Harry asked stupidly, cocking his head to the side, his eyebrows cinched together in visible perplexity.

Lyla took a deep breath, closing her eyes to resist the urge to roll them. It was very obvious why her twin and Ron were friends; both were unbelievably thick at times. "It's quite obvious don't you think?" At both his and Ron's blank looks of uncertainty, Lyla sighed. "Do you really need me to spell it out for you?"

"No. What I meant to ask though was what sort of mischief you were planning on getting into this time and whether I'd get the map back in one piece if at all?" Harry asked snidely, sneering haughtily at Lyla as though he knew everything.

Well Lyla had a few things to say about that notion but even though it bothered her to do so, she kept quiet and responded somewhat indignantly to defend her own self. "It's not like I'm going to do something illegal!"

"That's unlikely all right," Ron snorted sarcastically to Harry, rolling his eyes and not believing Lyla when she spoke.

Lyla had wanted to lash out at Ronald for his little side comment but went on and ignored him. It was better to get what she wanted first before doing any such thing. "A little more faith in your favorite sister would be much obliged," Lyla grumbled slightly.

"She's your only sister Harry, don't let her con you into it," Ron stage whispered to Harry—though he didn't appear to be listening—hoping to sway his friend against Lyla but only succeeded in further ticking her off.

"I'd put more faith in you if you didn't look like you were up to something," Harry responded evenly, crossing his arms in front of his chest, trying his darnedest to make this as difficult for his sister as he could, if only for a little bit of fun of course.

Lyla's jaw dropped considerably low as she stared at her twin in shock. It figured that the only time she'd be suspected of something was when she wasn't up to it. Nearly fed up with this little battle of words, Lyla huffed in irritation. "Can I borrow it or not?"

"Am I going to get it back in one piece or not?" Harry quickly shot right back.

"Yes alright, al-bloody-ready! You'll get your ruddy map back in one piece, ok?!" Lyla nearly screamed at Harry in frustration.

Harry looked down, rummaging around in his pockets before his hand emerged with the map held tightly within his grip. "That's all I wanted," he said simply, grinning as he handed it over.

"Yeah," Ron said before Lyla could wipe the smirk off her brother's currently pompous face. "That's all he wanted. That wasn't so hard now was it?" he asked patronizingly.

"I'd really shut it if I were you. It's really not a good time to put your two cents of idiocy in. You're only digging yourself a deeper hole by continuing to let that incessant trap of yours run." Lyla said shortly, hoping she'd gotten her message across that then wasn't a particularly smart time to cross her.

Unfortunately Ronald didn't seem to have all his wits about him at the time, for he opened his mouth again and proved what a moron he was. "Why's that then?"

Gritting her teeth tightly, Lyla spoke slowly, "Because if you hadn't already noticed, you're not exactly high on my favorite persons list at the moment."

"What are you mad at me for?" Ron asked, highly confused at what he'd done to the youngest—and not to mention far more volatile—of the Potter twins.

Lyla stared at her brother's best friend in disbelief. "Bloody hell, are you really that thick?!" she asked feeling rather dim herself just speaking to the bloke. At Ronald's blank stare Lyla continued, "You just made 'Mione run off bawling her eyes out. For Merlin's sake, why do you think I'm brassed!"

Lyla expected Ron to at least look slightly remorseful for his actions against Hermione, but apparently that was giving him too much credit as he merely scoffed off at Lyla's outrage. "You don't even like her! What are you getting defensive for?" Ron nearly shouted at Lyla, standing so his long gangly form towered over her much smaller frame.

Fred and George's faces were masks of identical cringes for their younger brother's idiotic attempt at intimidation. They knew Lyla far better than Ron and knew that silly attempts at frightening her would only come back to bite the blithering ponce in the arse. Which it would surely come down to though they were ready and waiting to save their dim-witted brother from the inevitable, and not to mention well deserved, humiliation that would surely come.

"I like her a hell of a lot more than you right now, so shut it before I start going on the offensive!" Lyla snarled at her brother's bird-brained buddy.

"You're threatening me now?" Ron asked, his voice edged with his own bit of outrage.

Lyla quickly decreased the space between her and Ron, getting right in his face as she spoke, softly but not without getting her point across, "I was making a promise, not a threat lamebrain and you best get it right and remember it. Store it away for future bloody reference I don't care! Just make sure you never forget it."

Even though Lyla had stared the Weasley boy down with enough intensity to make Snape himself soil his trousers, Ron was still apparently too thick to get the message. He was in fact about to speak again—once more solidifying himself in the idiot hall of fame—as Lyla turned to leave, but thankfully for him Fred and George jumped in, covering their mentally-deficient brother's mouth and saving him from the unavoidable bruising to both his person and ego.

Lyla stomped off out of the common room to find Remus, intent upon going through with her earlier objective only with the added desire to blow off some much needed steam. Though her sour mood far from improved when she finally found Remus impatiently waiting in the empty History of Magic classroom they usually rendezvoused in.

"You're late," came the irritated voice of her Professor.

Lyla rolled her eyes, not in any type of mood to deal with her godfather or his lectures. So she ignored the fact that they'd never really decided on a specific time for their rescheduled session and responded as sarcastically as she could. "Would have been here sooner, but I felt I owed if to Harry to show my support of him and besides, it was a nice party." Her sarcastic response only proved what Remus had already perceived: his goddaughter was not in any sort of pleasant mood. This hypothesis only further cemented itself to being a fact throughout their session.

Lyla twisted and turned, ducked and dodged, swatted and swiped at the knives propelling themselves at her from every direction. It was a little after one in the morning and yet here she was, still working out her anger and issues which seemed to be multiplying by the minute.

She knew she was being a great deal more than foolish, doing this by herself and all, but she didn't really have a choice in the matter. She wanted—no _needed—_to get this down perfectly and Remus wasn't exactly letting her practice all she wanted or at all for that matter unless he was supervising.

She didn't rightly care anyways. She was far too perturbed to. It had been her last day working on the defensive part of her training and by far the hardest session she had undergone thus far. Remus tested her on all the things he'd taught her recently for the first half of their session—quizzing her on spell names, their breakdown, meanings, and derivations, along with their effects—while the last half was spent supervising Lyla's application of the various incantations on conjured dummies.

Though that ended hours ago, far before her curfew for one thing, but Lyla, as usual wasn't about to abide by any sort of regulations. She had said her goodnights to Remus but instead of returning to the still swinging celebration she doubled back into the History of Magic classroom, to further hone her skills, after she was sure Remus had scampered off.

There's where she worked till the early hours of the morning, working harder than she ever had. Working her anger out on a conjured dummy instead of the real pillocks that did—and still were managing to—piss her off. And she hated them all equally as much for making her so angry...alright no so much hate as highly peeved with them and their ability to irritate her so and there were many on her list of irritants.

Currently Ron was at the very top. Now Lyla didn't hate him—reserving that word for more annoying Slytherin-like pests—though she did hate the fact that he was, and still remained to be, a colossally enormous git. Every blow that connected with the inanimate model Lyla imagined it to be Ronald's face. Harry was also there in imagination—for annoying her earlier over his _precious_ map—though he wasn't quite as high on her list as Remus.

Quickly loosing her focus, Lyla rapidly fought off the now multiple—and very much animate—mannequins as she remembered all the things her godfather had said to her...or more specifically scolded her about. It seemed as though everything she did that night was not quite up to par by his standards and that along with irritating him, infuriated her all the more.

She wasn't hitting hard enough or dodging fast enough for his liking and amidst her anger-filled thoughts of not being good enough Lyla lost herself in the motions she'd been mirroring for the past month or so, loosing track of time as well.

Glancing at the clock on the wall Lyla gasped as she realized just how fast time had flown by her. It was nearly three in the a.m. and she was finally starting to feel fatigued from the events of the past day. Gathering her things together Lyla stealthily crept out of the classroom pulling out the Marauder's Map as she slinked.

"Lumos," she muttered, readying her wand over the unfolded scrap of paper as she did so, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Before her eyes words, various lines and moving dots appeared on the neatly folded piece of parchment. She quickly checked the many passages to Gryffindor tower along with the location of all Hogwarts' staff. When satisfied that she wouldn't be caught, Lyla quietly made her way through the darkened halls, every now and then glancing at the still activated map.

Lyla had lost interest in skulking after not even a minute into her excursion. Therefore she was not paying attention to where she was going. She had gotten to the staircase leading to the seventh floor where Gryffindor tower was and figured she was pretty much immune to getting caught seeing as she was so close to the safe haven that was the Gryffindor common room.

However her attention came rushing back to her as she reached the top step. A noise sounding suspiciously like a door slamming open followed by some muttered cursing about a party that was supposed to be over by now resounded from the opposite direction from where she would have been heading in. Lyla panicked as she glanced back at the map and realized the muttering was coming from the Head of Gryffindor House.

The sneaky Gryffindor third year was about to spring into action and hide when something more shocking occurred. She was viciously bowled over by a dark and rather large creature that came soaring from the darkness of the corridor to knock Lyla to the cold stone floor. An unidentified flying...dog...Yes. A U.F.D. she soon recognized as Sirius bloody Black.

This recollection followed by the fact that she would have soon been discovered by her Head of House should she dawdle much longer caused Lyla to stumble back to her feet, slightly irritated at the fact that he'd knocked her over twice now and had yet to stop and make sure she was alright or help her back to her feet. Lyla saw the illuminated tip of her Professor's wand appear from around the bend in the corridor as she sprinted down the stairwell, giving chase to the dog that did catch her most furious attention.

Though to be fair it wasn't _entirely_ his fault, mostly but not completely. The rumors and talk going around the school were only in part to blame as well. The Daily Prophet however played a more important role in her avid attention being brought to the escapee. It's latest addition more specifically.

One Thursday morning Lyla had angrily torn the paper from a nearby Hermione's indignant hands upon spotting the heading. Sirius' moving wanted picture was plastered and scowling across the front page with a scrolling heading above it that read: Dementor's Granted Permission to Perform Kiss.

Expectedly, Lyla was angered by this turn of events. Unexpectedly she was scared she might not make it in time though she was bound and determined to find Black before they did. So she saw this opportunity as her quite possibly one and only chance and continued her pursuit of the escaped criminal.

She ran out of the castle, across the lawn, down the hill—struggling to keep her footing on the soggy ground as she did—and well into the Forbidden Forest marking the first time she'd traipsed past the edge without an escort and she couldn't even revel in her rule breaking. Lyla didn't shout out to Black—figuring he'd more than likely pick up the pace should he realize he was being followed—though he didn't appear to have noticed her or if he did he hid it well.

The canine slowed its pace as it entered the confined clearing ahead of it, changing into the very man Lyla had wanted to get a hold of for a very long time. She casually lingered on the outskirts of the clearing for a few moments before making her presence known, clearing her throat as she cautiously moved out from her makeshift hiding place behind a random tree.

Sirius jumped as the rustling noise and clearing of a throat reached his highly attuned ears startling him from his thoughts. Swiftly spinning on his heals Sirius cringed at the face that came into view, lit up by the meager bit of moonlight the thick trees allowed in. Eyes wide in shock that the girl had actually managed to keep up with him, Sirius froze till the rational side of his mind caught up with him, screaming at him to flee from the girl as fast as his legs could carry him.

However the girl was much smarter and faster than he gave her credit for.

Lyla saw the panic break through the shock in Sirius' eyes and knew he was about to try and take off...again. Quickly pointing her wand at the moving wizard Lyla muttered a trip jinx that swept Sirius off his feet most literally. Simple, but effective.

Lyla took a deep breath before approaching the winded wizard, setting her patented smirk in place. "I must say Black...you are one tough puppy to track," she said, breaking through the silence of the forest and the cursing of the criminal.

A low guttural growl resounded through the still clearing, causing Lyla's approach to halt as she watched the grounded fugitive. Black flipped his prone self over, quickly crawling to his hands and knees before lunging once again at Lyla before she could get another word in to possibly deter the oncoming battle. She would have cleared up any misunderstanding there might have been were she given the opportunity. After all, she wasn't there to hurt or capture him.

She just wanted to talk. And yes at one point while chasing him down that thought did _seem_ rational.

Unfortunately Lyla wasn't given the chance to dodge out of the way let alone make a sound as Black's body collided with hers, sending her flying for the third time to the ground. Now in a cliché situation like this one would suspect that Lyla's only lifeline, or weapon if you would, to have slipped out of her grasp as she went sprawling to the grassy ground. However Lyla did not allow this to occur.

When she saw his intention written upon his dirty face Lyla gripped her wand as tightly as she could and it was a good thing she did to for it appeared as though Black wasn't intending on just knocking her down and running like he had multiple times in the past.

"Give me the wand," Sirius' scratchy voice snarled threateningly as he struggled to relieve Lyla of her wand.

Lyla kicked Black off of her before raising herself to her feet and crouching down, her wand at the ready, "Now how probable do you think that is?" she asked, waiting for Black to attack her again. Which he did soon after she spoke, lunging once more at the fiery red head who dodged and blocked every attack Black made.

Lyla silently thanked her godfather for training her so well. Black could barely keep up with her, though despite this, his assaults were getting monotonous. It was tedious and boring work evading all his attacks when all she'd wanted to do was have a simple conversation with the bloke.

Getting frustrated and slightly winded, Lyla kicked out at Black, her foot connecting with his abdomen knocking the air right out of him and causing his winded self to stumble back away from her. Arms crossed over her chest, remorse briefly flickered over Lyla's countenance before she righted herself. She hadn't wanted to hurt him but...better him than her right?

Black was hunched over from the blow, trying to regain proper breathing when Lyla spoke again. "Are you quite finished yet?" Sirius' only response was to lift his head high enough to glare in Lyla's direction. Seeing this as her moment to finally interrogate him, Lyla proceeded to do so. "Now how about you tell me why you're here, attacking innocent portraits and such? You're not really after Harry are you because I'd have to object to that and well, then stop you by any means necessary."

Sirius heard the girl's words and couldn't help but find amusement in them. The Fat Lady was in no way innocent especially not when it came to his eardrums, he remembered that much about her from his school days. A smirk crossed his gaunt face as he spoke, chuckling lightly at first only to have that chortle progress into a full blown manic cackle that left Lyla to come to the conclusion that he really was barking mad.

"You really have lost your mind in Azkaban, haven't you?" Lyla asked slowly, a slight tone of sympathy coating her words. She sighed softly as she realized that all she'd thought of his innocence was merely wishful thinking on her part. "Well, why don't you go back and find it then," Lyla said, her voice hardening as she moved to apprehend the criminal.

Lyla silently conjured her intended weapons and shouted, "_Mobilicultrate!_" There was a minor flash of light and when it dissipated there was what Lyla now thought of as a guilty Black, pinned to a tree by a plethora of random blades.

Black, for all manner of speaking, was shocked to find himself incapable of moving. He could only stare in apparent mystification as Lyla paced before his immobile form, irritation clearly showing in her stance. Black watched her, silently amazed at the power she held at such a young age, though his thoughts were cut short as the youthful witch spoke once again disturbing the silence that had befell the small clearing.

"I don't like it when people make me second-guess myself." She stated firmly, her back to the still motionless criminal. Spinning on her heal to face the escaped convict, Lyla approached his defenseless form. When she was directly in front of him she spoke again, "In fact I find it downright bothersome. Now I put my faith in you...in the notion that you truly were my parents' friend..."

She paused, working the next sentence over in her mouth before spitting it out. "In the fact that you're innocent and so far you've thwarted every single one of my conclusions and, in so doing, got yourself into this predicament," Lyla said matter-of-factly, looking him up and down obviously unimpressed.

"Now," Lyla started breathing deeply before going on, "We can sit and chat like normal people, without you flying off the handle and trying to cause physical damage to my person, or I can just call the Dementors and let them have their wicked way with yeh. Which one do you prefer?"

Lyla's serious tone soon turned mocking as she leaned closer to Sirius, "Are you going to be a good litt'l doggie or am I going to have to punish you for being naughty?"

Black sneered back at Lyla, looking as though he were contemplating spitting at her but appeared to have thought better of it. "Well aren't you an arrogant litt'l chit?" he stated, mocking that way she'd spoken.

"Not arrogant," Lyla scoffed. "I'm just _very_ much aware of what I'm capable of. Now why don't you tell me why you're really here? And..." Lyla paused as she brought her wand up under his chin, "Choose your words wisely."

"I'm here for the Weasley boy," Sirius ground out scratchily, cautious of the wand at his neck, "He has something I want."

This was highly unexpected. Of all the possibilities Lyla hadn't seen this coming at all. "Wait, you're here for...Ron?" she asked slowly, her voice full of confusion as she randomly guessed which Weasley boy he'd meant.

Bill and Charlie weren't even in Hogwarts anymore so it wasn't them and it couldn't have been Percy. Mr. High-And-Mighty, know-it-all, older male version of what Hermione's going to turn into was just too...square and boring to have something as interesting as this involve him. Fred and George were a possibility but why would he be after one and not the other when it was widely known the two did everything together and that everything would certainly include pissing off escaped convicts, so it had to be Ron.

Sirius nodded that Lyla had been correct in her speculation and at his affirmation the still befuddled Gryffindor confusedly pondered aloud, "What could Ron possibly have that you would want..."

"His rat," Sirius snarled hatefully, even though he knew he must have sounded more than a tad unstable.

Lyla raised an eyebrow at his tone, wanting to completely disregard the fact that Sirius apparently hated Ron's rat for some reason, but her curiosity had won out in the end. "And what exactly were you planning to do with Scabbers?" she asked, cocking her head as she subconsciously brought her wand down to her side.

Sirius lifted his eyes to Lyla's, a snarl set firmly on his face, his eyes burning with rage. "I'm going to kill him for all he's done!!" Sirius shouted causing Lyla to jump.

Her startled movement wasn't due only to his sudden shout. Somewhere deep in her mind, his angry declaration had triggered a memory which helped piece together the puzzle Lyla had been working tirelessly to solve. A scene from a reoccurring dream flashed in her mind and she focused on it, analyzing it closer than she had before.

Sirius was laughing. Dust, bodies and debris was settling back to the wrecked earth. All was still to the unaware but Lyla knew exactly where to look. Focusing her mind in on the only movement in the scene Lyla silently gaped at herself for being so dim and not noticing the sight before her previously. There scurrying towards a gutter was none other than—

"Peter Pettigrew," Lyla said suddenly, cutting Sirius off before he even managed to start what was likely to be a memorable rant. "That's it then in't? That's the answer to this mystery. Why you're here, why you're after Ron, why you keep trying to break in to Gryffindor Tower even when no one's there. It's because Scabbers isn't Scabbers. He's Peter Pettigrew."

Sirius was in shock that Lyla had gotten to that conclusion on her own. He thought she wouldn't believe him and would only consider him to be truly mental if he'd made such an outrageous claim. Though he was starting to see he gave her far less credit than she deserved.

Lyla stared at the shocked, open mouthed innocent Sirius Black and only had one thing to say as she flicked her wand, releasing him from his pinned position. "Fashion tip, Siri. Mouth looks better closed." In contrast to her godfather's immediate response, Lyla's comment had neither shaken nor stirred Sirius from his flummoxed trance.

It was only after a few silent lengthy minutes that he finally came to. Sputtering on the spot, Sirius struggled to find words to express his current disbelief. "H-How? How could you have possibly come to that conclusion? You don't even know the whole scenario. You weren't even there!" Black nearly shouted, trying to make sense of what was happening himself.

"You saying I'm wrong?" Lyla asked incredulously, not bothering to wait for the animagus to speak again. "First off, I was there. I may not have been conscious to all that was happening around me but I was in fact present. And despite not being aware of it all at the time I can hazard a guess and I'm fairly positive it'd be accurate too."

Sirius didn't speak. No words came to him and at any rate he highly doubted himself even capable of speech at the moment or at least not comprehensible vocalizations. He could only stand there and listen in astonishment as Lyla accurately ran down the events that led to his imprisonment.

"So yeah, the way I figure all this happened is, you weren't my parent's Secret Keeper—which is technically where all the trouble started." Lyla stated, pacing back and forth and speaking quickly as her theory rapidly ran through her head. "I think you refused the responsibility because you would have been far too obvious. You were my father's best friend after all, you two were like brothers. If I were a Death Eater or Voldemort you'd be my first suspect."

Lyla paused briefly, only long enough to think through every aspect of the scenario. "Now I don't rightly have a reason why Remus wouldn't be the next choice so I'm just placing him in the same category as you. So that leaves Pettigrew as Secret Keeper. And considering no one came to your defense I'm assuming no one else knew about this including Remy and Dear Ol' Dumbles."

Sirius blanked at Lyla's words, giving the girl a strange look at her nickname for both his old friend and Headmaster while he waited for Lyla to go on which she soon did, her mind slightly on a tangent with relative information. "Now I need to cover a few things before I get to the real incriminating part of the story," she said, slightly rambling as she went on.

"I know you're an animagus and this conclusion only leads me to believe that not only was my dad one but Pettigrew as well." Lyla was speaking quickly so she could spew all her new findings out before they were lost from her thoughts. She almost forgot to breath she was speaking so hurriedly.

"You see, I have this nifty little map here," Lyla stated pulling out said map from her shirt, giving Sirius a stern look when she saw his face, "And no, you can't have it. Harry made me promise to get it back to him safely and much less unharmed and that's exactly what I'm going to do...after I explain why all this is relative of course."

Glancing down at the still active map Lyla ran her hand over the names, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs thoughtfully. It was all starting to make sense now even more than ever before. "You see this Marauder's map here used to belong to a group of infamous pranksters according to my twinly sources," she said referring to the Weasleys and not her brother.

Lyla glanced up at Sirius' face and grinned slightly, "And I suspect from that look of recognition on your face that you were Padfoot," she concluded rambling on about how him and his friends were never registered but that was a given, since it was technically illegal to become one like they had.

"I cant express in words how deeply moved I am that you guys went through all that trouble just to make things easier on Remus," Lyla commented sincerely for she figured they only became animagi for Remus or Moony's sake and that was really quite something in her book.

Her playful joking side was pushed to the side. As things got real, she got serious. Lyla rambled on about how admirable Sirius and the rest were to take such risk for their friend before focusing in on the night of her parent's murder. A night that had haunted her for many years was about to be resolved. As Lyla spoke, the words formed themselves into visuals in her mind. It was like her dreams only she wasn't sleeping, they weren't hurting her, and she was seeing the whole truth not just bits and pieces.

She saw Peter's twitchy form approach a dark, cloaked figure surrounded on all sides by others—their white masks keeping their faces hidden from her prying eyes. "It is time for you to prove yourself Wormtail," a low and dangerous voice sent shivers up Lyla's spine as she tried to ignore the hint of a hiss at the end of his words. "Where are the Potter's hiding?"

She watched helplessly as the rat showed his true colors and shakily spoke but two words, "Godric's Hollow." Two simple words and yet they had the power to destroy her entire world. And destroy they did. Familiar scenes that should not be familiar flashed past Lyla's tear-filled eyes as she not only recounted everything but relived it once again as though she were actually there watching everything yet once again helpless to do anything.

Lyla watched her parents willingly give up their lives to save hers and Harry's for what she hoped was the last time. She didn't know how much more she could stand as Voldemort faded from existence with a flash of green light as the scene changed again. She was now outside the smoldering house. She saw Hagrid with her brother in his arms, tears coating his face but it wasn't until Lyla caught a glimpse at Sirius' that her voice finally hitched, threatening to break on her from the amount of emotion she was drowning in.

He looked so lost, staring up at what was supposed to be his friends' safe haven going up in flames. He didn't have to ask where her mum and dad were. He just knew and even though he looked like all he wanted to do was flee from reality right then and there, he didn't. He straightened his back, a fierce determination etched upon his countenance. He was out for blood and there was no one on earth that could have stopped him then.

No one else might've known who the Secret Keeper was. But Sirius did and Lyla knew Sirius was out to kill the ruddy bastard and he would have been justified had anyone else known what she knew. Godric's Hollow blurred out of her mind as another familiar scene materialized itself before her eyes.

Lyla felt her blood boil as she heard Pettigrew shouting false allegations at an innocent and grieving Sirius. She watched the scene unfold but unlike the last time she'd witnessed this, her view wasn't obstructed by the smoke, debris and dead bodies the explosion had brought about. This time she saw everything as it really played out.

The helpless Gryffindor wanted to scream at the local muggles who were gathered to watch the scene with curious eyes. In her mind she did shout at them, but they couldn't hear her. Lyla watched as the rotten scoundrel blew up the street they were on, sending muggle bodies in to the air then lifelessly to the shattered earth.

Lyla scowled as she saw Pettigrew smirk in triumph before cringing as he chopped off his finger, transformed and fled, amidst the chaos. Lyla wished she could go after the rat-bastard but Sirius' untimely laughter brought her attention back to him. When she first witnessed this maniacal scene she'd thought Sirius was insane. But not only that, she had thought he delighted in causing the mayhem he'd just brought about. That ruining all those lives gave him nothing but utmost joy.

But that wasn't the case at all and Lyla saw that now. Sirius' laugh wasn't a crazy and thoroughly thrilled with himself cackle. It was one of grief and self-loathing. He hated himself at that moment for letting Pettigrew escape and kill all those innocents. Hated himself almost more than he hated the little back-stabbing rat.

Lyla found she couldn't watch anymore now that she understood. She detested the fact that she couldn't do anything as Pettigrew took to the sewers in his rat form, leaving Sirius to take the fall he'd been set up to take. "And you did," Lyla said softly, her voice drowning in emotion. "Too consumed with grief to care what happened to you, you let yourself be taken away while Pettigrew escaped more or less unscathed."

Pausing before she began to pace again, Lyla looked up at Sirius, seeing the same pain she'd witnessed in her dreams etched in his expression. "And Peter," she spoke again, "he undertook the guise of a pet, met a nice Wizarding family so he could keep his ears open for any news of his fallen Master's ascent back into power. And he stayed there for the next twelve years, undiscovered while you rotted in a cell." Lyla gritted her teeth angrily as she thought of how comfy his life had been while Sirius had suffered so.

"And you would have still been there if it weren't for Ron, isn't that right?" she asked conclusively, not waiting for the man before her to respond. "If you hadn't seen his family, his _rat_, in the Daily Prophet you'd still be there now."

Lyla shook her head as she came to this conclusion, berating herself on how stupid she had been. She really should have come to those conclusions ages ago. All the signs were there...all the evidence. Blimey even her dreams were trying to tell her to open her eyes but she was too dense to realize. Lyla felt her eyes watering as she thought of all Sirius had probably endured in Azkaban, "All this time you've been innocent and suffering alone, but you're not alone anymore."

Sirius let out a shaky breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding at Lyla's declaration. He still couldn't believe it and stammered as much. "How? How do you know all this? You weren't there for any of that. No one was. You couldn't have known all that."

"Just because I wasn't there doesn't mean I can't come to my own conclusions based on evidence. Factual evidence not biased conclusions based on hatred and fear," Lyla said heatedly as she thought back on all the slander that had been and still was floating around about Sirius.

She didn't directly answer his question deliberately because she still didn't understand how she knew these things. She couldn't explain her dreams or visions or even how they came to her. She just knew it felt right to think of Sirius as innocent and went from there.

Silence reentered the tranquil clearing as Sirius stared in amazement at his best friend's daughter. She certainly was something else...something extraordinary. "Blimey! It's cold enough to freeze the knackers off a brass monkey," Lyla stated as she realized just how cold she was and just how inappropriately dressed she was for the weather—causing Sirius to conclude that along with those other things she was also apparently unpredictable.

Lyla watched her breath leave her frozen lips as she muttered a warming spell over their enclosure so her and Sirius could be comfortable for the conversation ahead of them. Sitting herself on the now warmed ground Lyla gestured for Sirius to do the same. He did so hesitantly, still not entirely used to trusting people again.

The pair were quiet for a few tense minutes neither one knew quite what to say now that everything had already been said. However one of the two was entirely too inquisitive for her own good about a subject she most definitely shouldn't have been curious about. Looking down at the Marauder's Map still clenched firmly in her fist Lyla asked the question that had been bothering her ever since she learned of the map.

"How the ruddy hell did you guys make this anyway?" she asked gesturing to the moving enchanted parchment in her hand.

Looking mildly confused Sirius answered slowly, "We enchanted a piece of parchment to show us all the people, passages and things in Hogwarts." His response was on the verge of sounding belittling, as though he thought it was obvious how they'd accomplished the task and Lyla was being a bit of a div for inquiring about it all.

"Well duh." Lyla responded dully, rolling her eyes as she proceeded on, "If it was as easy as you make it sound everyone would have one of these things. I meant the specifics...the steps and such. How'd you figure everything out?" Lyla never begged, it was demeaning in her eyes and she had never considered it necessary to either. She got her way by manipulating whatever the situation to work in her favor, but she was too tired to do a proper job at it and settled for exasperation over manipulation.

Sirius sensed Lyla's frustration and was about to answer her truthfully when something occurred to him. "You're going to try and make one yourself aren't you?" he asked directly, not bothering to work his accusation subtly into the conversation.

"Figure that out all by yourself, did you?" Lyla asked derisively ignoring the affronted expression Sirius' face contorted to due to her remark. Cutting him off before he spoke, Lyla nodded in answer to his unnecessary question. "Why else would I be asking about it? I don't really need to know, I'll figure it out eventually...well either that or I'll just duplicate the original but what if I find something you Marauder's haven't?"

Sirius snorted, "Like that's likely." Seeing the outraged glare from Lyla he stumbled to fix his blunder. "Not that you're not capable, I'm not saying that at all."

"Then what exactly are you driving at?" Lyla asked her voice full of warning to once again choose his words carefully.

"All I'm saying is that it's unlikely," Sirius stated gently. "Trust me; we covered every part of Hogwarts. There's nothing about the castle that we don't know."

"That's awfully presumptuous of you and not to mention impossible," Lyla scoffed, not believing his declaration.

"No it's not," Sirius argued.

"Yes it is," Lyla insisted.

"Nuh-uh," Sirius responded childishly leaving Lyla with the desire to put him in his place.

"You want to bet on that?" she challenged, knowing full well that she was right.

"Alright, I'll humor you. Why is it impossible?" Sirius smirked, crossing his arms and waiting for what he expected to be a feeble attempt to reason her false claim.

What he got however, was a passionate response, full of valid arguments that he simply could not refute. "Because Hogwarts is a living, breathing monument with a mind of its own. The only way you'd know every one of its secrets would be if it let you and judging from the disrespect you've just shown by ostentatiously stating that you knew everything about it, I highly doubt it decided to pour its figurative heart out to you."

Sirius was far too shocked and not to mention impressed with Lyla to dwell on the slight sensation of annoyance that swelled in him at her ability to both insult him and get her point across at the same time. "Oh," he said dumbly not knowing what else he could say to the argument she'd just made.

"Yeah, so now that that's over with, will you tell me how The Marauder's made the map?" Lyla said after a few moments silence, trying to snap Sirius' attention back to the topic at hand.

"Uh, yeah...right, the map...well there were a few complicated potions and spells that quite literally blew up in our faces a bunch of times before we got it down," Sirius said smiling wistfully as he remembered nearly blowing up their dorm a few times. "But before we actually got down to all that we had to find out everything," Sirius rectified his sentence at Lyla's pointed glare, "Or as much as we possibly could about the place which wasn't that difficult since we liked to explore and such."

"And after that," Lyla said eagerly, wanting to get him talking more now that she'd got him started.

"Well Prongs figured it out for the most part with a lot of help on my part as well," Sirius declared zealously.

He looked so proud with himself that Lyla just couldn't help but deflate his ego. She'd heard tales of Black when he was attending Hogwarts, specifically from Rosmerta—the gossiping old bar wench that she was—and knew just the thing to throw out just then. "What'd you do? Chat up some Ravenclaw to figure it out for you?"

Sirius was at first shocked that Lyla had known that but didn't dwell long on his wandering curiosity on how that was at all possible. "We happened to be a very intelligent lot!" he stated, more appalled that he'd been caught than anything else really. "How else would we be able to cause such mischief?"

"By intelligently manipulating those around you?" Lyla suggested casually.

Sirius opened his mouth but snapped it shut just as quickly. Lyla sat there, looking up at him all innocent and it was then that he saw it. He sighed sadly as he smiled at his friends' only daughter. "You look so much like your mother," he stated suddenly. "Smart like she was too," he went on not saying anything Lyla hadn't already heard before. "But from what I've seen, and believe me I've witnessed a lot, you act far more like your father."

Even though she'd heard the same thing numerous times before, it meant more to Lyla coming from Sirius. Lyla graced Sirius with a smile and it was then for the first time in months that he allowed himself to relax knowing he had someone on his side at last that believed he was then and always had been innocent.

247


	25. Chapter 25

Hogsmeade with Oliver

- Chapter 25 -

Hogsmeade with...Oliver

A dark figurative cloud seemed to be forming over Hogwarts, despite the sun being copiously distributed. The windows appeared to quiver against an unseen wind, while the unusually dank walls perspired nervously. Various inhabitants of nearby paintings shrank back deeper into the world within their frames for fear of their preservation; a sense of foreboding like no other building within them all.

A startled gasp, followed by multiple frightened cries rang out from hither and thither as the many students loitering around the corridors hurriedly scrambled to flee from the swiftly approaching danger that was a royally steamed 3rd year Gryffindor girl infamously known as Lyla Potter.

Lyla stomped through the halls of Hogwarts castle in a fit of irritation. All who saw her cleared out of the path of the angry and far more than likely to be explosive Potter. They knew better than to get into the line of fire when the Gryffindor was so incensed. There were too many gruesome prospects that could come from getting in her way at that moment and no one in their right mind would want any part of those possibilities.

Scowl set firmly on her face, Lyla slammed the door to her dormitory open and entered the once quiet and serene quarters, the sound reverberating off the walls as the door frame itself seemed personified into skittishly accepting the door back into its rightful place. The sudden noise burst the silent bubble enclosing the dormitory and caused its only occupant to jump in both surprise and fright.

Rylie nearly toppled off her standard four post bed when the hurricane otherwise known as Lyla raged on in. However the startled Gryffindor soon went from fright to concern as she recalled the events that were supposed to be taking place that very day. Sitting upright on her bed, ready to hear all the little details, she warily spoke, "I take it you had a bad date?"

Lyla nearly growled as she flopped onto her still disheveled bed, her eye twitching as she recalled the events of the past few hours.

Waking up was infinitely much more gratifying than being woken up Lyla decided as she came to that Saturday morning. There was no reliance on any outside force, doing just that, and forcing consciousness onto a slumbering and unexpected dreamer. There was just the bliss of a goodnights rest greeting its end.

Yawning widely Lyla sat up in her cozy bed, stretching her arms up above her head as she opened her eyes and smiled giddily around the room at her dorm mates who were bustling around in their attempt to ready themselves for the day, all in varying degrees of disheveled-ness.

Lyla's mind however, soon strayed quite far from her spastically scrambling peers. She was altogether quite surprised that she could actually fall asleep at all do to the escalating excitement that had been bubbling up inside her since the previous day thanks to one devilishly handsome Gryffindor.

She had noticed a change rapidly growing within her favorite Quidditch captain. He had gone from comfortably talking and laughing with her one day to suddenly nervous, shifty and introverted the next.

Every time the two ran into each other Oliver stumbled over his words and sometimes even himself, which never failed to greatly amuse Lyla. Especially when his moment of clumsiness had caused a rather calamitous chain of events involving many suits of armor crashing into one another and eventually a—until the inevitable moment of impact—oblivious Troll. Fortunately for Oliver, he wouldn't remain the only target of the Fat Lady's security guards' animosity.

For some reason, Lyla just couldn't seem to grasp, Oliver was having a hard time speaking to her or—as was more accurate—functioning around her at all. It couldn't have been just because of the Troll debacle, for who hadn't trampled a Troll with a brutal barrage of suits of armor anyway?

As the week progressed Oliver seemed to grow ever more frantic around Lyla. She knew all their "small talk" was eventually supposed to lead to something more but Oliver apparently always lost his nerve to spew out whatever it was he was going to say before they were interrupted—or as was more frequently occurring—Oliver embarrassed himself greatly and felt he had to go away till Lyla forgot about it. It wasn't until the previous day that Lyla finally learned what had Oliver so tongue-tied and flustered that week.

She had known about the Hogsmeade trip since that Tuesday—coincidentally the day of the armor-Troll mishap—but hadn't been very interested in attending the trip considering her last two visits hadn't ended so well on her part. Certainly skipping this one seemed best for Lyla or at least it had until Oliver nearly screamed out an invitation to go with him, startling not only her but the rest of those in the common room as well.

Lyla grinned fondly as she got out of bed, recalling the red hue his cheeks gained as the rooms' occupants snickered at his less than urbane request. He was simply too adorable, Lyla could not even think of possibly refusing him, so therefore she didn't. She simply shouted her acceptance right on back at him despite the snickering of her peers.

Without a moment's hesitation, Lyla had readily agreed to attend the visit to Hogsmeade with Oliver. Unfortunately the shilly-shallying soon smacked her squarely upside the back of her head, where her sensibility apparently dwelled. Residing in the back of her mind this attribute of hers was more often than not overlooked.

Lyla was still mildly wary of what might take place in Hogsmeade. After all, the last few trips with Oliver didn't end all too well. She was hopeful, however, that this one would be much different—as in more of a happy ending for the young heroine—what with Valentine's Day being only two days away and all. And the day had in fact started out well enough.

She hadn't woken to a nice fall out of her bed. Nor had she awoke shaking from wonky vision-type dreams. Lyla simply woke up, well rested and smiling gleefully; ready to start what she hoped would be a wondrous day full of marvelous memory making moments she would undoubtedly merrily look back upon while excitedly recounting the many details back to her dearest and best-est friend Rylie.

Lyla quickly showered and dressed for the day. She had found the perfect outfit, her make up was flawless and her hair seemed to be in an agreeable mood, working with her—not against her—to make things just perfectly peachy. Perfect for her soon-to-be perfect date she declared openly for she had decided to give optimism a fighting chance.

She left her dorm soon after getting ready for the day, intending to meet Oliver in the entrance hall like they'd planned. Promenading down the stairs, through the predictably deserted common room and out the ominous portrait hole, Lyla sighed forlornly as she passed the newly restored portrait of the Fat Lady, heavily guarded by thuggish security trolls who already seemed to dislike Lyla—which of course was no fault of her own!

She couldn't help the fact that she thought it a bit more than disturbing that the trolls frequently compared the size of their clubs...nor could she just not comment on this spectacle, brazenly stating that she'd seen bigger just to get a rise out of them for it was the Lyla thing to do. Unfortunately this resulted in the massive creatures chasing the cheeky redhead and many other innocent bystanders around the castle.

Suppressing a shudder, Lyla sniggered at the memory, quickly dodging away when the trolls glared, threateningly shaking their massive clubs at her as she sauntered on by. An almost despondent sigh left Lyla as she continued on her way. She was dearly going to miss Sir Cadogan. He wasn't as cowardly as to need assistance doing his job like the Fat Lady—whom Lyla wholeheartedly blamed for the newly appointed Lyla-hating security.

Lyla was distraught when the eccentric knight was sacked. She had—quite literally—got down on her hands and knees and begged Dumbledore not to do it, but he was unwavering in his decision. The Potter girl was so passionate about the issue that she had to be held back when Sir Cadogan's portrait was taken down for she was only hindering the process and refused to vacate the area in spite of this.

Fred and George had consoled her in her devastation that horrid day as she made a big scene of their goodbye, woefully shouting, "Farewell Sir Cadogan, may the paths we tread cross once more." As pointless as it is to shed light on, if any of her peers had not thought Lyla to be wonked in the noggin before, their opinions soon changed after witnessing this display. Though it wasn't like Lyla actually cared what they all thought of her. She was far too overcome with sadness to see the brave knight depart those hallowed halls.

With him gone Lyla now had no one else nearby to swap Shakespearean insults with and she was going to miss that ever so much. Now the only time she'd get to speak with him would be on her way to Divination, which she had taken to skipping recently, finding no joy in the subject or its' addle-brained Professor.

The more Lyla thought on Sir Cadogan's dismissal the more perturbed she became for it wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for Sirius' impromptu visit to Gryffindor Tower—Lyla was completely disregarding the fact that Sir Cadogan knowingly granted Sirius access for that wasn't his fault either. His job was to allow anyone who recited the correct password through the portrait hole and Sirius had the password! Had all of them for that week, he did, thanks to Neville's absentmindedness.

Poor Neville suffered the awful consequences of his blunder; he was actually still suffering at that moment Lyla noted. McGonagall was livid when she found out that someone had been enough of an idiot to write down the passwords to Gryffindor Tower and then proceed to lose said list. She was so furious in fact that she'd banned Neville from Hogsmeade, gave him detention and forbade anyone for telling him the password.

Now Lyla didn't exactly know why, but she had a soft spot for the incompetent third year. She knew that it wasn't his fault Sirius had gotten his hands on that list—Sirius had explained at least that much to her—and so she felt sorry for the innocent bloke. So much so that she had taken to waiting for him at the end of each day to let him in.

McGonagall and her punishments however were not the worst Neville had coming. Three days after Sirius' escapade in the boys' dormitory Neville received a Howler from his Grandmother that was nothing short of terrifying causing Lyla to reveal her compassionate side to all of Hogwarts once more as she attempted to comfort a shaking, white faced, and sickly looking Longbottom. It was clear to all that she had sympathy for the boy which was more than she or anyone else could say for Ronald.

She was still quite miffed with the youngest Weasley boy over their last encounter even though she'd left clearly the victor of their little spat. Ronald just seemed to be getting more and more on her nerves as of late ever since he had been 'viciously attacked' by Sirius Black. The blithering ponce was enjoying his moment in the limelight and this greatly bothered Lyla.

Not because he was getting all the attention because, really, she could care less. No, what bothered her was that Ronald was getting an inflated ego from everyone incessantly fawning over him, listening with bated breath for whatever mindless twaddle spewed from his mouth. He was acting all high and mighty, like more of an insensitive arse than usual and this didn't sit well with Lyla, especially when he turned his sights to tormenting Hermione—whether that was intentional or not.

Whenever the aforementioned was spotted she was blubbering about here and there, keeping to herself for the most part, barely speaking to any of the teachers during classes let alone her classmates, Lyla included. Normally this development would have delighted Lyla. However seeing as she no longer loathed the know-it-all, Lyla was instead irritated by the inconsiderate pillock who'd caused the constant overflow of Hermione's tear ducts.

Though despite the fact that she was upset with how Ron was handling things and treating his friends, Lyla opted to stay out of the drama and leave her brother's friends to sort out their own affairs for she wanted no part of it. Yes, you heard correctly. Lyla was staying out of this fight...no matter how much it may have irked her to do so.

Lyla shook her head out of her reverie as she carried on through the castle. The further she walked the more evidence she came across of the effect Sirius' visit to Hogwarts left on everyone. Both students and staff alike were constantly twitchy and on guard half expecting Black to pop out wand-a-waving and curse them all to high hell which was a completely preposterous fear of course, to Lyla at least.

The precautionary steps Filch had taken to keep Black out were unbelievably absurd. He had nailed boards on nearly every inch of Hogwarts—even where there weren't any cracks or holes to cover—in a silly attempt to prevent Sirius from entering the castle. However Lyla knew—without a shadow of doubt—if Sirius wanted in, he'd find a way. Persistent is what he was. He and Lyla were very much alike in that aspect.

Lyla glanced around as she neared the Entrance Hall. Oliver was standing at the bottom of the marble staircase, greeting her with an almost exaggeratedly excited grin that practically made her lose her footing on the stone steps. She vaguely wondered if that was how Oliver had felt during his less than graceful moments while around her.

Quickly righting herself, Lyla thanked Merlin that the gorgeous Gryffindor 7th year hadn't noticed her near fall. She didn't want Oliver to know quite yet how utterly ungraceful she could be at times...despite the fact that he was more than likely well aware of this piece of information thanks to her continued run-ins with the Great Hall doors.

Carefully making her way down the last few steps, Lyla greeted her date, grinning widely as she readily took his proffered arm.

A conspicuous Harry passed the couple, darting back up the stairs after shouting a hasty farewell to an equally shifty Ron—the two making a big show of them going their separate ways. Who were they trying to fool though? Lyla wasn't nearly thick enough to believe that Harry had any intention of staying inside the castle or its' grounds. He was probably planning on taking the One-Eyed Witch passage to Hogsmeade, though he could do with a bit more practice on being unobtrusive.

Lyla smirked at how obvious her brother and his idiot friend were being but kept quiet nonetheless and pushed all thoughts of their soon-to-be escapade out of her mind. No sense wondering what her brother and his moronic comrade were up to when she was in such good company. Though she may as well have been pondering away for Oliver still seemed to have difficulties in the conversation department.

He had inquired about Harry's reaction to him and her going out again and Lyla told him Harry had gotten over it. It wasn't as though he could actually do anything about it anyway, not if Lyla had any say which of course she did—telling her temperamental brother to stay out of her business where Oliver was concerned though in more of a threatening manner when Harry tried to dissuade her of her decision to accompany Oliver that day.

Sadly that was the most of their conversation since Oliver was still slightly jumpy when she was around for some reason. And no amount of prompting on Lyla's part seemed to make any difference. Oliver just couldn't snap out of his fumbling shell long enough to have a simple conversation with her let alone inform her of their destination which he adamantly—or as obstinately as he could considering the stuttering—refused on the grounds that he'd wanted it to be a surprise.

And Merlin what a surprise it was... 

Oliver led Lyla down High Street when they finally reached the village. They quickly passed the Three Broomsticks which was teeming with Hogwarts students, milling about like little hormonal robots skittering to and fro. Boy's chatting up skirts here and there. The birds for the most part giggling at their respective blokes' advances...Yes, one could definitely tell Valentine's Day was just around the bloody corner.

Lyla was nearly relieved to note that Oliver wasn't taking her there for a butterbeer. It was far too crowded and terribly noisy. The place was just about bursting with prepubescent teens trying to get their jollies off from the opposite sex. It was disgusting and Lyla wanted no part of the bizarre love bug that seemed to be catching and spreading far and wide like the plague.

Oliver quickened their pace, guiding Lyla passed Honeydukes—which Lyla had no need to go into for Remus' office was like a treasure trove of hidden sweets as it was. Lyla pouted as they passed Zonko's hoping Oliver would make a detour in there, for if he made her endure a pit stop to the Quidditch Supply shop and refused to accompany her on her quest to plot—chat—with her favorite store proprietor then they were going to have words...and Lyla would not—or more accurately—could not guarantee those words would all be of the pleasant variety.

The pair quickly ambled by Galdrag's—of which Lyla had no reason or want to visit, having a peculiar aversion to Wizard-wear as it was—and finally turned left off High Street after Scrivenshaft's. Lyla had never been down here before and wondered once again where the bloody hell Oliver was taking her.

Her inquiry was soon answered as Oliver slowed his gait in front of a quaint little building that was boldly—and not to mention vibrantly—branded Madam Puddifoot's. Lyla's curiously excited smile turned down at the corner of her lips as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. To say the least she was a bit thrown by the architecture of the building alone. Tilting her head to the side Lyla pondered over the curved and partially puffy parts of the structure before her.

Crinkling her nose in outright confusion for she didn't know what to think of the place. Her only conclusion soon came to her, though she knew better than to voice this observation. The place looked to her as though a flamboyantly colored tea kettle and a poodle shagged each other rotten and their bastard love child is what came of their torrid affair.

Unfortunately Lyla didn't have time to further observe the exterior of the shop for Oliver was hurriedly pulling her towards and through the front door before he burst from anticipation. His excitement was nearly contagious as he pulled her along, though she un-regrettably remained very much immune to it.

Upon entering the..._institution_, Lyla's eyes widened as they attempted to adjust to the shock of color, and then broadened ever-more in horror at the sight before her eyes. "Merlin curse me now," she muttered shakily to herself, glancing quickly all around her as something akin to—though far more intense than—terror overtook her.

She couldn't escape it. Every where she turned, every time she blinked it assaulted her senses, causing her eyes to water, her ears to ring as the ebullient laughter of her peers echoed in her head. Her breath hitched in her throat in outright fright as she fought to maintain some semblance of calm, all the while frantically contemplating whether to fight of flee from the all encompassing pink.

The floors were completely covered with a coarse coral colored carpet that caused Lyla's trainer-clad feet to itch uncomfortably within their confines. Both the walls and ceiling were painted a streaky salmon shade with tiny rose imprints here and there covering the former and giving the walls a flushed appearance—as though they themselves were embarrassed by their poor choice of coloring. The windows were draped with wispy fuchsia curtains that did absolutely nothing more than make the place look even more horrifying to Lyla's franticly racing mind.

All in all it was like a monochromatic nightmare Lyla just couldn't seem to escape. The offensive color was quite literally everywhere. Lyla felt as though she were drowning in it causing her to cover her mouth for fear of spewing out whatever contents were held prisoner in her stomach.

If Lyla thought that was bad it was nothing compared to the many floating paper heart cutouts that fluttered all around her, incessantly ramming into her and occasionally whacking her in the face, or the Cupids tittering about the tables, threatening bodily harm, in the form of arrows, to innocent passersby.

The place was, in one word, ghastly and in another oh-so tacky. The sickening over-use of the shade and the lovey-dovey—though shockingly malicious—creatures however was, regrettably, not the worst cause of Lyla's gag-reflex kicking in.

Lyla could barely breathe without inhaling multiple florally grotesque fragrances that were being liberally dispensed from liquid incense holders situated directly above each table setting to cascade elegantly over the poor unfortunate and unsuspecting saps who sat below them.

It was rather unfathomable to Lyla how everyone could stand it, for it was something quite foul. It ranked high on her list of _101 Most Awful Stenches in Europe and Where to Sniff Them Out,_ right between the Divination classroom of Hogwarts and Remus' old sock drawer. Lyla shuddered as she thought of the repugnant odor the drawer still emitted despite many years of disuse.

Shaking her head to clear the haze of fumes surrounding her Lyla took a daring, deep breath after cringingly looking over the interior of the tea-poodle—as she had taken to referring to the shop in her head—and came to one solid and hopefully factual conclusion: Oliver was taking the piss. 'He can't possibly be serious,' Lyla silently declared, hoping she was right and this was all some lavish practical joke. However, daring a glance at her date's face, Lyla was left with no doubt that Oliver was very much indeed serious about the place. He smiled encouragingly down at her, mistaking the revulsion on her face for excitement.

The non-official couple was soon led through the maze of tables by the hostess—a rather plump witch with flashy fuchsia curls messily nestled atop her head, who was also covered from head to toe in pink and red hearts. Lyla dodged the fluttering butterfly-like symbols of affection as they proceeded on to their table, which happened to be in the very center of the massive room.

"Oh really now," Lyla muttered in exasperation. Did the fates really detest her so much as to force her to endure such torture?! Sighing reluctantly Lyla took her seat, grinning at Oliver's gentlemanly gesture as he pulled out her seat for her. He was trying so hard it was actually rather endearing and despite not wanting anything to do with the place, Lyla relented to at least try and enjoy herself for Oliver's sake.

Lyla leaned back in her chair to try and alleviate some of the tension in her. Unfortunately it was then that Lyla realized—with horrifying clarity—exactly what was going on all around her. Lyla didn't know whether to laugh or cover her eyes and scream for everyone—and she did mean _everyone_—there seemed to be utterly intoxicated with varying doses of affection.

Lyla couldn't help to note this for every which way she looked witches and wizards, young and old, students and self-proclaimed adults alike were vigorously—or as vigorously as one could without raising the rating of the scene from PG to something slightly more scandalous—expressing their fondness for each other.

Not even a second had passed by before Lyla had made her decision, settling for simply shielding her eyes—_vigorously_ resisting the urge to shriek as she witnessed one old mans tongue disappear down some poor innocent little old ladies throat. Lyla kept her eyes covered while she calmed her frantic impulses that were coaxing her into fleeing from the House of Horrors posing as a poorly disguised tea-parlor.

Cautiously uncovering her eyes, Lyla attempted to ignore the various lovey-dovey non-PG PDA scenes going on all around her. Hoping her _date_ would help in distracting her, Lyla turned towards Oliver, more hopeful than she'd ever been before for him to strike up a conversation. This granted he did, though the topic he chose wasn't something Lyla had anything remotely positive to say about.

Whatever had stolen Oliver's speech that week had finally decided to generously give it back. Though that was more likely due to the fact that he was rambling about Quidditch and not actually carrying a conversation with Lyla—to which she suspected him still incapable of. So she took the only course of action she could in this situation.

She was neither unaccustomed nor was she above ignoring people when they bored her out of her mind, therefore it came as no surprise when she temporarily left her conscious thoughts to run wild throughout her vivid and overactive imagination while Oliver sputtered on about nothing of particular interest to Lyla.

Reflexively her body nodded as though she were actively paying attention to each and every syllable that emitted from the handsome Scottish boy's mouth across from her. Though in reality—and if one were to look very closely they could easily tell—she was not actively listening but rather _actively_ envisioning all the horrible acts she would commit against the fluttering nuisances of affection, should they choose to persist their attack on her person.

Overjoyed. Ecstatic. Positively elated. Those were just a few of the emotions flowing through 7th year Gryffindor house-team Captain Oliver Wood's Quidditch obsessed body as he dragged a vivacious and overly mischievous 3rd year Lyla Potter to the number one destination for young lovers—or more precisely in his case, potential couple.

Madame Puddifoots, for all its obvious downfalls in Oliver's eyes, was the single most romantic venue in Hogsmeade and the utmost perfect place for Oliver to finally woo the girl of his adolescent dreams for all he was worth. There was only one slight hitch in his plan however; a minor setback or minute roadblock if you will.

Despite his enthusiasm and readiness to have their relationship finally set in concrete, the unfortunate and pitiable—at this point in time—Oliver Wood, Gryffindor's residential heartthrob and All-Star Quidditch Keeper could not for the life of him—though try with all his might he did—work up the nerve or calm his racing heart long enough to pop the question let alone speak properly while in the presence of the most amazing girl Hogwarts had to offer him.

All he'd managed to do thus far was order their drinks for them and ramble on about Quidditch, and although he noted—immensely pleased with himself—that Lyla didn't particularly mind listening to him spew on about his love for the sport, he knew he had to do something before he lost his chance and their date was over.

Taking a few deep breaths, that were supposedly calming—though Oliver thought to be entirely the contrary—Oliver glanced over at his lovely date. He grinned softly then, quietly observing her as he had taken to doing recently. She seemed to be enjoying herself, he concluded, since she wasn't verbally shouting otherwise—like the Lyla he knew would, should she dislike something—and mentally gave himself a small pat on the back for a job well done.

Recalling the way Lyla's face lit up with excitement when he'd pulled her through the doors, and every sudden jolt of elation her body made as she perused the interior of the establishment caused Oliver to beam even more with pride. Though true, it was far from being enjoyable for Oliver and surely the polar opposite of his idea of a perfect date, he assumed—from his many observations of his date's behavior—that it was her ideal date and that she was overjoyed to be there with him as well.

This conclusion only served to strengthen Oliver's nerve and gave him the courage to finally speak up and say what had been on his mind for many weeks now. However, fortune did not favor the brave this day, for just as the courageous Gryffindor made to venture onto a vast and dangerous plane of uneasiness, an obscene and not to mention inappropriately embarrassing interruption thwarted Oliver's one chance of solidifying his proper place at Lyla's side.

Lyla slouched in her seat, successfully managing to dodge a dive-bombing, Kamikaze-like, fluttering heart as it aimed to take her face off. Glistening white teeth were bared in an angry snarl. The girl's right eye was twitching to an undetectable rhythm as an almost inhuman growl was heard reverberating from deep within 3rd year Gryffindor Lyla Potter's irritated throat in her failed attempts to ward off the nuisances.

However, it soon became clear, not only that they weren't taking the hint, but that they were the least of her tribulations. To be fair though, she really should have seen it coming—fate did, after all, seem to have it in for her.

Lyla only just became conscious to the fact that Oliver had ceased his mindless 'Quidditch-themed' babbling and looked about ready to say something potentially imperative when it happened..._It _being Lyla's worse-case scenario coming to life before her very, disbelieving terror-stricken, eyes.

"Ooh,"

"OOoohh,"

"OOOooohhh,"

"OOOOoooohhhh."

A harmonizing quartet of cupids had somehow found it's way to the center of the room and although Lyla hoped with all her might that they'd amble on peacefully by considering the way her day had been going, she knew better than to believe that would happen.

The foursome each took turns singing a line, while the other three not singing their part backed up a wingspan or so swaying to their melodic 'ooh's' and the snapping of their tiny fingers in time with their tune.

"Oh we're here to serenade you—Baby,

'Cause you look so down and blue.

Say what's wrong with you pretty lady—

Hunny,

Why so far from your handsome beau?"

There was of course a minor dance routine inserted between their verses but Lyla didn't feel compelled to remember said spectacle let alone pay attention to their spirited pirouettes and leaping bounds of daring. She was far more concerned with controlling the impulse to strangle all four of the singing little imps.

"You should be kiss'n and hug'n sweetly—

Sugar,

Underneath this sweet perfume.

But instead you're far from him—oh Darlin'

Oh no, why so far from him?"

Lyla chanced a glance at the other couples surrounding her and Oliver —who were unashamedly gawking at them—and noted that they were the only two that weren't snuggled closely together at their table, some still quite openly expressing their affections for one another.

"We're gonna fix this picture up right—

Dearie,

'Cause you look like you need the help.

So we'll shoot our arrows at cha—Sweetie,

And pretty soon you'll be in love."

Their dance routine came up again only this time it was worse than before, Lyla noted cringing as she pondered how someone could tap dance in midair and still manage to make that irritating tapping sound.

"BE.

IN.

LOOOOVEEEEE—

CHA!"

Lyla cringed one last time as they finished their performance with a spectacularly well executed pyramid and spirit fingers. The room erupted in applause as Lyla sneered at everyone around her. They couldn't have possibly been cheering because they enjoyed the quartet's performance, for that was just too far fetched for even Lyla's mind to believe. No, the only plausible reason for their cheers was relief that it hadn't been happening to them.

"So how's a'bout it, sweetheart?" the short plump—leader-like—one of the group asked, rushing forward till he was right up close and personal with Lyla's face.

Lyla leaned back farther into her seat—tilting her chair back on two legs ignoring the little voice in her head that reprimanded her for not keeping all four on the floor—to put even more room between her and the fluttering pillock before her.

"An arrow with your serenade?" a much taller, gangly cherub squawked lowly at her, flying up next to his squat buddy.

"We'll even give you the two for one deal at no extra charge," the last two said simultaneously, looking as identically cutesy—and not to mention chubby—as their squeaky voices sounded. There might have been a smidge of a difference tone wise, since Lyla distinctly recalled four differing pitches during their schpiel, but she didn't rightly care enough at that moment to decipher which was whose.

Shaking her head wildly, Lyla frantically looked around for some form of escape as the nettlesome little buggers rattled on about how utterly adorable her and Oliver looked together—though they soon switched their chattering to suggestions on how the two should act more couple-y. Lyla's hysteria soon died down to scathing relent-ness as she decided it would be much too cruel to ditch Oliver.

She'd hoped the quartet would have moseyed off to badger some other, more receptive, couple after embarrassing the blithering hell out her and Oliver but alas, they just kept going on and on much like little energizer bunnies Lyla wished ever so much to rip the batteries from.

And if there truly was some High and All Mighty divine power somewhere out there surely they'd have mercy on Lyla's poor pitiful person and strike her down where she sat, slowly sinking lower into the ghastly pastel salmon plush lining of her seat, hiding her embarrassment behind a scowl and a narrowed set of emerald eyes—that were currently far from being full of mirth.

The seconds ticked by unbearably slow for Lyla as she willed the bothersome twittering creatures to flee before she truly lost her temper, which would happen soon if they didn't cease their animated chattering. Really, what were they hoping to accomplish by inquiring—quite loudly mind you—why the duo weren't smooching away like everyone else? And further more, was it truly necessary of them to persistently try to move her seat closer to Oliver's so the two can just—in their words—get on with it?

Oliver chuckled nervously, but neither said nor did anything to help or worsen the situation as his face reddened far worse than Lyla's herself. Fortunately, for all those involved, the hostess Agatha—or Aggie as she had requested the teens call her—chose that exact moment to bring the 'happy couple' their drinks.

"Chauncey! Cornelius! Constantine! Carl! What 'ave I told you four about badgering the customers?" Aggie asked sternly, though not without a hint of amusement dancing around her wrinkly eyes.

The four cupids had the grace to look abashed for their antics—their heads lowered in shamed and their sandal-clad feet scuffing the air. Though that little act of theirs didn't last long as they answered Aggie's inquiry.

"Make sure they'll pay first?" the short plump leader of the quartet—who Lyla then realized was wearing quite a large nametag emblazoned Carl—asked giddily, flapping excitedly about Aggie's head—nearly getting his self entangled in the lively locks.

Lyla had to hand it to Aggie for remaining unyielding and stern while the quartet mucked about. She didn't get angry at their less than serious answer. Nor did she shout at them either. She simply raised her eyebrow expectantly, shook her head slightly in minute reproach and patiently waited for them to finish their games.

"Wait till they've ordered?" Chauncey—the cherub that looked like he'd been stretched out unnaturally—continued with the cupids' act, disregarding Aggie's pursed lips as she grew farther from being thrilled with the spectacle the four were causing. Or so it would seem to anyone that wasn't Lyla and couldn't detect someone's amusement a mile away. Lyla knew for a fact that despite appearances, Aggie was indeed delighted by the scene.

"Not to do it?" Cornelius asked before his spitting image—Constantine of course—concluded their tirade.

"Unless otherwise requested?" Lyla bitterly noted that Constantine had the slightly lower voice as she wished for the ability to set fire to things with just the power of her mind. Which granted was more than likely a highly probable possibility considering her witch-liness and all.

"Too right you are," Aggie cut through the jungle that was Lyla's vivid imagination before she was able to fully envision the whole entirety of Madam Puddifoot's going up in flames—the chirping cupids clawing at the windows for an escape. Lyla smirked as she imagined their shrieks being more music to her ears then their serenade had been, before returning to reality in time to witness Aggie—her newfound hero—shoo away the four little terrors.

"Now off with you lot. Go on, back to your posts! I'll have no more of yeh're shenanigans t'day." Lyla sighed with relief as the little imps bid them farewell—winking cheekily at the couple before quickly scurrying away to a far off corner of the room. It was then that Lyla was finally able to relax for the first time since she stepped foot through the door. However, as unfortunate as it was for both inhabitants of the table, her tranquil mood did not last very long at all.

"Will that be all dearies?" Aggie inquired, quill at the ready to take their order, which Lyla would have given had she not just then noticed that Aggie had already brought them drinks. Which the girl was ever so surprised to see since she didn't quite remember ordering anything.

Of course that could be due to the fact that she'd mistakenly inhaled multiple heaving breaths of the ghastly fumes permeating the air while frantically trying to calm herself. Just to be sure though she figured she'd better _make sure_ it wasn't just her. "Um Miss," Lyla started slowly, gaining the hostess' attention before going on. "I didn't order anything," she stated confusedly, shaking her head as she glanced from the steaming cuppa to the now grinning woman.

Aggie's tittering laugh caused the hairs on the back of Lyla's neck to rise indignantly as she sat up straighter in her seat. Her eye's narrowing for what felt like the millionth time that day. She didn't know why this woman was laughing at her or even if it was her that she was in fact laughing at but what she did know was that she didn't like it one bit. Nor did she like the sly little smirk that soon crept across Aggie's features as her laugh died away and she leaned down to whisper to Lyla.

"Not to worry dear. Your beau has everything covered," she said reassuringly, patting Lyla softly on the shoulder before scampering off to tend to other patrons.

Lyla bit her tongue so as to focus her attention on the pain and not on her anger. When that didn't work she took a big gulp from her cup to occupy her mouth and distract it from pointedly ignoring her brain when it attempted to talk her out of saying something detrimentally insulting to her date.

This however was a colossal mistake on Lyla's part which she realized moments too late as the scalding tea hit her tongue. Her throat closed on instinct letting none of the boiling liquid seep through its defenses. Screwing her face up in disgust and pain, Lyla subtly spat the foul fluid back into her cup about ready to let Oliver have the verbal thrashing she'd been itching to hand over to someone for a while now.

First he'd deliberately brought her to this god-awful place where she was assaulted from every avenue by sight, smell, sound and scenario, the last of which embarrassed her more than she'd ever thought possible and to top it all off, he'd ordered for her like she was some ham-handed little toddler incapable of doing anything herself.

And he couldn't have ordered something Lyla actually liked, for instance lets say a butterbeer, for no, that would have been giving Oliver far more credit than he obviously deserved. Lyla hated tea. Despite her lineage, heritage, and the fact that she'd lived in England all her life, she simple detested it.

She knew it was very un-English of her but she couldn't rightly help the fact that she gagged at the mere thought of the _drink_. She wouldn't say no to some crumpets if offered, however she was not, nor was she asked her preference! Oliver had just imposed and took it upon his self to order for her, a fact that irked her no matter how she tried to ignore it.

To put it simply, Lyla was aggravated. Beyond all reasonable explanation, she just couldn't calm the angry thoughts pulsating through her raging mind. What with the atmosphere of the place, the serenading cupids and kamikaze hearts, the ongoing—and not to mention unwilling—staring contest everyone seemed to want to pull her in on and her date who couldn't seem to do anything right at all, it was really no wonder Lyla was so perturbed.

All these factors added up to make this Hogsmeade trip the worst Lyla had ever had the misfortune to endure—and yes, she was including the Malfoy fiasco that past Halloween into her calculations as well.

Lyla sighed trying to reason with her brain and talk herself out of pretending to go to the bathroom only to ditch Oliver without any notice. It wouldn't have been that difficult, assuming—which she was—the bathroom had windows. All she'd have to do was make her excuses, toddle off to the lavatory and make a B-line for freedom. Of course afterwards she'd have to avoid Oliver till he graduated which was only a few months away so reasonably, she could pull it off...

Scolding herself for even considering doing something so heartless, Lyla sat up straighter in her seat, her hand tapping restlessly upon the table as she tried to work out precisely how she was going to break it to the one boy that'd ever struck her fancy that she was beyond fed up with their date.

So caught up in her thoughts was Lyla, that she didn't hear Oliver call her name multiple times. Her eyes didn't catch sight of him trying to subtly move into her line of vision. She didn't see him reach across the table towards her incessantly tapping hand till it was far too late.

Startled out of her reverie, Lyla jumped as Oliver's hand grabbed her own; her action startling the boy as well. Time seemed to move in slow motion, for Oliver at least, as he watched the accident unfold. His sudden jump knocked over Lyla's tea cup which spilt tea all over, not only the table cloth, but Lyla's hand and the front of her clothing as well.

The tea surged over her flesh like a torrent of molten lava, bubbling over the scorched skin in it's endeavor to melt the epidermis right off her small shaking hand. As soon as the scalding liquid touched her skin, Lyla was out of her seat and ranting for all she was worth. Somewhat relieved that she was finally getting to say all the things she'd wanted to but held back since they entered the place.

Her relief, however, was pushed aside by an overpowering sense of frustration. The very air of the place was becoming more than Lyla could handle, making her nauseous to the point of barely being able to hold in her last meal—which seemed, and more than likely was, days ago.

The migraine thrashing about her mind thanks to the embarrassing events of that day was making her dizzy and disoriented and to make matters worse she was now marinating in the most foul smelling liquid she had ever had the misfortune of sniffing—and yes she included that stink-sap fertilizing formula Professor Sprout had them handling for better potting and planting.

Her clothes were splattered with the tea and its' leaves, Lyla noted as she chanced a glance down at herself to check the damage. She felt about ready to go on another rant after coming to the conclusion that her clothes were officially ruined but stopped short of making any sound when she realized that she was a witch—a fact she seemed to have to remind herself of daily at least.

Lyla quickly cleaned herself up, muttering angrily as she did. Unfortunately, being ill adept at healing charms, she could do nothing about the now noticeable burn on her throbbing hand. She figured it was for the best if she had someone else fix her up since her track record clearly showed that she'd only make things worse if she so much as thought about attempting to heal herself.

So caught up in her exasperation, Lyla hadn't noticed she'd been muttering her crazed, irritated thoughts aloud. When she finally paused her ranting to take a breath she noticed all the gaping faces of those around her staring in shock at some of the things she'd said.

Her mouth shut with an audible snap then and there before anything else could spill out. Her eyes cringed closed, willing this all to be some kind of horrible hallucination, but after slowly taking a peak through hesitant eyelids, Lyla realized that she wasn't hallucinating. She was simply having a very bad day.

Lyla shook her head slowly as she finally made eye contact with her date. He was frowning sadly at her, his chocolate eyes pleading with her to say she was only kidding but she couldn't. She had said some pretty nasty things while she was angrily ranting so it was no surprise to her that she'd hurt his feelings. She wanted to take it back and make him feel better but her body simply wouldn't allow it.

She opened her mouth once or twice to say something but it was only on her third try that words finally came to her. "I'm...just going to...go...now," Lyla said softly, backing away from the table slowly.

She turned quickly, not able to take the dejected look on Oliver's face any longer. Head down and willing those around her to go back to their own business Lyla slowly and carefully made her way towards the exit, hoping she'd seen the last of her embarrassment flutter away with her words.

Unfortunately, her bad day was far from at its end.

Lyla had barely made it three feet from her table when four voices rang out, stopping her mid-stride.

"Oh no!" Carl said loudly, elbowing his fellow cupid, Chauncey, in his side to get his attention.

"Bird on the run." Chauncey shouted, raising the alarm to the fleeing girl.

Cornelius and Constantine glanced at one another at this notification, their cutesy smiling expressions growing dark as they looked back at the girl that was threatening to ruin the happiness of one of their patrons—especially after they sang to them and everything. The nerve of her! There was just one course of action for them in this situation and there was no talking them out of this. "Get her!" They war-cried together, their voices mingled with one another's as the quartet sprung forward to apprehend the unwilling third year.

Lyla knew enough to know not to turn around to see what all the clambering behind her was all about. She kept repeating a mantra of, 'Don't look back. Don't look back,' in her head but no matter how many times she'd said that, it didn't deter her from quickly craning her neck to peak behind her. It was fortunate that she did too, for her mind had just enough time to register what the cupids were doing and take action.

Four arrows sped towards Lyla as she quickly ducked to avoid the nearest two that connected with an overhead incense dispenser and a tea kettle respectively, both of which exploded from the attack sending liquid spurting in every direction Lyla tried to flee. The last two projectiles planted themselves in the floor as Lyla contorted her body out of the line of fire, sighing with relief that she managed to evade them.

Lyla relaxed then, thinking she was in the clear for she was mere feet from the exit by then. Smoothing her clothes and hair down, to save what was left of her dignity, Lyla breathed deeply only to have said breath get caught in her throat as a thought suddenly hit her. She had the chance to escape, and she was just standing there?

Just as Lyla realized it was a smarter idea to be reaching said exit rather than simply staring at it, a low whirring noise reached her ears, like that of a car engine revving, as something whizzed by her again, doubling back to collide into the back of her head. Now instead of racing for the door like any sensible person would in a situation like this, Lyla turned to look back, curious as to what was attacking her now only to be met with a fluttering heart slamming into her face.

Lyla could not believe her eyes. Apart from the malicious foursome shooting arrows and now dirty disapproving looks at her there was now an avian fighter plane formation of fluttering hearts—making little engine noises for authenticity—floating in wait for the precise moment to attack again.

The once mildly irritating fluttering annoyances had finally taken the plunge fully into violence and officially became kamikaze's for their Generals, the ring leaders of this attack on Lyla's person, pride and ego: The Cupid Quartet—performing locally at a Puddifoot's near you!

Lyla only just registered that the sound she'd heard definitely wasn't a car revving but rather an aircraft in attack mode when she was assaulted again.

All at once they descended upon her. The cupids splitting up to shoot at her from every direction while the paper airplane hearts dive-bombed, zigging and zagging all around to further confuse her. All in all it was a very well thought out and organized attack. Lyla had to admit this—though begrudgingly so, for she never thought a band of cutesy chubby cherubs, barely two feet tall and garbed in white diaper-like loincloths, would get the best of her.

Lyla had to barrel roll out of the way of the offensive creatures like some secret agent on a mission to save the world from total annihilation. "It's like a bloody war zone in here!" Lyla growled as she ducked and dodged attacks left and right thanking Remus profusely for training her so well. She was able to dodge everything they had to throw at her because of him.

Lyla thought too soon and cursed herself for patting herself on the back like that. Just as she had thought she was doing so well, another unidentified object collided harshly with her face sending her sprawling to the floor.

Wiggling her nose to make sure she hadn't broke it Lyla glared at the object that had finally managed to take her down. Wiping the crumbs off her face with her hand Lyla snarled at the giggling cupids who had just given Lyla a newfound odium for the tasty little crumpets that had just invaded her personal space.

Lyla barely had any time to think before the place was raining biscuits down on her in a one-sided food fight she neither started nor wanted any part in. She sat up, her arms crossed above her head shielding her from further harm via-crumpet while she frantically searched for her next course of action for it was finally apparent to her that running wasn't an option.

Hiding however, seemed a much better plan. Needing someplace to hide Lyla quickly searched the place for a safe haven from her prone position on the floor. Lyla—after finalizing her plan to scurry under a nearby table—then realized that all the tables in the building were spread far apart for privacy reasons she was sure. And the one table that was closest to her had the nauseating old couple occupying it, as though her luck couldn't have gotten worse!

Weighing the positives against the negatives for her next decision, Lyla quickly made up her mind, having no time to deliberate any longer for her assailants were honing in on her. Flopping back entirely horizontal with the floor, Lyla finally threw her pride and dignity aside for the sake of her survival, and army crawled the rest of the distance to the table, rolling out of the way of oncoming crumpets, arrows and airplanes, till she was safely beneath it.

Lyla had her eyes clenched shut as she breached the table's boundaries for she didn't want to be scarred for life from what she might see hanging around under there. So it shouldn't have come as any surprise to her that she failed her stealth test as a secret agent when she loudly fell into rather than silently crept under the table, startling the little old couple from their snogging session much to Lyla's relief.

Ever so cautiously, Lyla snuck a quick peek at her new surroundings, sighing with relief to find that things were being kept safe for all General audiences under there. After coming to this conclusion Lyla soon reached another: the floor was not a pleasantly comfortable area to lie on. She moved to sit on her knees but poorly estimated the height of the table resulting in the top of her head painfully crashing into the bottom of her sanctuary jostling it slightly and more than likely revealing her position to her pursuers.

Scoffing indignantly at her inability to pass as a secret agent, Lyla set about checking her battle wounds while the war continued to rage outside her confines. Aside from the soon to be momentous bump on her noggin and the burn mark—courtesy of one Oliver Wood—on her hand, Lyla's skin was littered with tiny stinging paper cuts.

Although annoyed with her injuries, Lyla was ever so thankful she hadn't been hit with any arrows. She really wouldn't have enjoyed that bubble of love she'd be forced into by the cherubs' magic. Lyla vaguely wondered where the cupids were pulling their arrows from for she didn't recall seeing any quivers. The bow yes, but definitely no quiver.

Lyla had to quell her rampaging thoughts from thinking any further into the phenomenon or surely she would have started quivering in more disgust than when she saw her refuge's occupant's antics. Instead she wondered how long she'd have to hide before she could fully escape the insane asylum that was Madam Puddifoot's.

As the minutes passed by the sounds of battle grew increasingly quieter. Lyla assumed that she'd managed to evade them long enough for them to get bored and flutter off to cause mischief elsewhere. Though just to make sure she was in the clear—and her head wasn't just being messed with again—Lyla peeked out from under the tablecloth as silently and as inconspicuously as she could, trying to spot her nemeses and their army before they found her. Unfortunately for Lyla, she had underestimated the attention span and determination of the little pests.

Since she caught neither sight nor sound of the quartet Lyla assumed, quite foolishly, that they'd either given up or loss interest in apprehending her. Unbeknownst to her though, the persevering ill-mannered little imps hadn't yet raised a white flag nor had they gotten distracted. They were in fact poised—ready and waiting—on top of Lyla's safe haven, shushing themselves and those around them to keep quiet.

Lyla, thinking she was in the clear, rolled out from under the table and got to her feet, ready to walk out the front door without any further mishaps. She made to take a step in the right direction when her mind set off the warning bells as it had just registered the gleeful smirks on the other patrons' faces.

Quickly spinning around to defend herself, Lyla was met with the horrifying sight of four winged creatures hurtling towards her immobile and disbelieving form. For what felt like the millionth time that day—though in reality wasn't more than a handful of that—Lyla sprawled to the floor, struggling to wrestle four nuisances off of her while everyone else just sat back and watched—fascinated by the spectacle that was Lyla's eventful and extraordinarily entertaining life.

"Oi, no biting!" Lyla shrieked in outraged hysteria, her cry finally bringing Oliver back to his senses, into reality and out of his brooding catatonic alternate universe where Lyla's ranting exhibition replayed over and over in his crestfallen mind. "Watch the teeth! The teeth!!" Lyla roared, managing to get two of the vile creatures into a headlock while the other two ankle biters set about doing just that and wreaking havoc on her ankles.

Seeing the predicament Lyla had—somehow—gotten herself into, Oliver sprung into action, setting off to play hero—a role he reveled in when it came to saving his lovely red headed damsel in distress and one she highly detested when even being thought of as a D.I.D. for she was hardly some dainty doting damsel and though she definitely was in distress at the moment, it was nothing she herself couldn't handle.

Though being far too preoccupied with the four stooges at that point in time, Lyla hadn't the time nor the energy to tell Oliver to bugger off and stay out of it. Suffice it to say however, Oliver was far too blinded and deafened by his endeavor to _save_ Lyla that he didn't notice her ungrateful look of annoyance as he pulled the viscous cupids off of her.

Nor did he hear her finally manage to make her getaway out a nearby fire escape window—it had been far closer than the door at that moment—as he was otherwise engaged in a battle of wills with the quartet over his interference of their ruling out justice for the crimes that had been committed by one Lyla Potter.

One Lyla Potter that was currently elsewhere at the moment. An elsewhere that was far from Madam Puddifoot's and all it's neurotic, nightmare inducing, mayhem. This realization hit Oliver hard, but instead of falling back into his dejected phase, he had suddenly decided it was about time to grow a backbone.

Throwing a few sickles on the table for their service, Oliver roughly pushed the bickering quartet out of his way as he took off after the girl he still fancied despite the events of the past hour or so. Not only was Oliver chasing after Lyla because he wanted to make things better between them but because it was awfully chilly outside and Lyla had left her coat behind while trying to flee from the establishment and its' many masochistic mascots.

Oliver ran as though he were being chased by a horde of Manticores—though fortunately nothing of the sort was actually in pursuit of him. It was just the urgency he felt that made it seem as though he had little time to dawdle. So dawdle he did not, scurrying speedily down the lane till he reached High Street, finally catching sight of his fleeing date as she was just passing Zonko's joke shop.

She barely spared a glance for the store as she swiftly swept on; leaving Oliver to wonder if following through with his previous intentions was of the best ideas. Straightening his back, ready for what doom may lie ahead of him, Oliver pressed on—ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that was screaming for him to leave well enough alone.

In all of the thirty seconds it took him to catch up with Lyla, Oliver mulled over—working the words over in both his mind and mouth—exactly what he was going to say. He had composed this remarkable earnest and heartfelt speech that consisted of many—derisive—defamations of his character, declarations to never again act like such a pillock around her, and of course the occasional, "I'm so incredibly sorry about the cupids!"

Unfortunately upon catching up to her, despite having practiced his act of contrition, Oliver found that he was once again left speechless in the presence of the Potter girl. "Lyla," he called out hesitantly, blanching paler than he'd ever gone before as she twirled around to face him.

Her perfect pale porcelain skin was flushed pink from both the embarrassment she'd gone through that day and the cold wind that rushed against her face, swishing her already disheveled hair about her face and body. Her emerald eyes glowing with repressed fury completed her current frazzled state and caused her to look even more enchanting that he'd remembered.

"What now?" Lyla whispered so softly that if it weren't for the wind carrying her words to his intently listening ears, he would have missed them entirely.

"I—um, that is to say...you left this," Oliver finished lamely, holding out Lyla's white and very much unstained coat to her.

After a few silent and tense-filled moments of Lyla staring unblinkingly—or as resolutely as she could with both the wind and her hair whipping about her, far more than likely, frightening face—at Oliver—who adamantly refused to meet Lyla's steely gaze glare for glare—Lyla reached out and took her coat.

"Thanks," she replied softly, no longer feeling the rage that had been running amuck inside her just seconds before. Now that was being pushed aside by guilt and remorse over how horribly she'd treated Oliver. She wanted to apologize but considering the beating her pride had taken that day, she didn't think herself altogether capable of accomplishing it let alone making it sound sincere.

"Can I walk you back?" Oliver asked, hopeful for a positive response, but trying to look as nonchalant as possible. As though he wouldn't be completely shattered should she refuse.

Lyla's stony expression finally cracked after hearing the uncertain uneasiness in Oliver's tone. A small genuine grin lit up her face as she nodded her assent to his request. What harm could it do anyway? What's the worst that could happen? The worst had already hop-scotched all over her as it was so Lyla saw no point in turning down the bloke she still quite fancied.

The pair ambled back up High Street towards Hogwarts castle, neither saying a word to the other, for there was nothing of particular importance to say. After all the excitement of the day, the two were simply enjoying each others company in a strangely serene silence that left both in higher spirits than before.

"Well what do we have here?" Lyla sighed, knowing it was too good to be true to hope for their peaceful little stroll to go uninterrupted for longer than it had. Though if she thought about it, Lyla was just glad it lasted as long as it did for she'd been expecting—and was still very much indeed paranoid of—an ambush coming from any darkened alleyway she passed.

Turning to face the igits that decided to bother her now, Lyla scowled, unsurprised to find that the morons were none other than Slytherins for who else would have such bad timing as to decide to stir up a bit of trouble when it was uncertain as to when the girl's next manic mood swing might occur.

Lyla glared at Malfoy and his cohorts, about ready to tell him to piss off when an older Slytherin—who bore an odd striking resemblance to that of a troll—sauntered up to them. It was apparently he who had spoken not Malfoy, who got a lucky break that day for Lyla wasn't in any mood to deal with him and his toadies on top of everything else she'd been put through.

Though Lyla swore if this unidentified buddy of his made any sort of club-like reference she would lose it entirely and anyone within a five meter radius of her better head for the hills a-runnin'.

"Flint." Oliver spat distastefully, hate clearly pouring off him in waves of animosity.

"Wood." Flint drawled contemptuously with equal, if not more, abhorrence coating his words. "Shouldn't you be out on your little broomstick preparing for the arse-kicking you're going to get from us at the Quidditch final?"

Lyla wasn't entirely aware trolls were capable of intelligent speech—though the intellectual bit might have been giving this one far too much credit. Regardless, she was not feeling anywhere near impelled to let this boorish brute get another word in—especially if said word were anything about that loathsome sport—lest she lose her senses completely.

"What is it with you Slytherins with starting something and always sounding so utterly portentous?" Lyla cut in before Oliver could angrily retort to Flint's jab at his team's skill. "Strutting about like that as though your knickers were in a twist about your knockers. You do realize that gives your supposed victims more ammo to use against you right?" Lyla finished too irritated to revel in Malfoy's annoyance as his eyes narrowed, more than likely recalling back to his own experiences with Lyla specifically, knowing her words to be factual.

Flint, or Troll-boy as Lyla would have much rather called—and thought more accurately suited—him, turned his attention to the young Gryffindor. "Lyla Potter," he dragged out slowly, letting her name linger on his lips—causing Lyla to, of course, cringe with disgust at how dirty her name sounded coming from him. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting."

Lyla's answer was completely automatic, without so much as a thought thrown into it at all, and a true testament to how accustomed to dealing with Slytherins she had become, "Yes well, considering my luck's gone on holiday to hell in a hand basket today, I should've foreseen this confrontation coming."

Although shocked, or as was more accurate, affronted Flint did a remarkable job keeping his cool. If Lyla were anyone but her, she probably wouldn't have even detected the change in the boy's stance as he transitioned from attempting to seduce her smoothly, to crudely. "You've got one hell of a mouth on you, don't you?" he asked rhetorically, pausing long enough to take a step closer to his intended.

"It's wasted on Wood here of course," he went on, chuckling as he gestured to a slowly reddening Oliver as he moved increasingly closer. "He wouldn't know what to do with it even if you were begging for it," he took another step, smirking as he finished what Lyla had no doubt would soon be known as the one of the world's most idiotic things to say—innuendos and all—to one Lyla Potter, "So what say _we_ give your mouth something a little more _fun_ to keep it entertained?"

Flint took his final step towards the utterly and thoroughly disturbed Lyla, who was ready and quite frankly willing to punch his lights out should he even attempt to touch her. However he never got the chance to as Oliver, in an act of spastic heroism, leapt in the way, clocking troll-boy right in the kisser, and essentially beating Lyla to the...well punch.

This of course started an all out brawl between the two as the other Slytherins wisely chose to slink away from possible bruising to themselves and their egos. Whereas Lyla, having no qualms about furthering her injuries, though being far too infuriated to even think about jumping in to the tussle, turned on her heal and stalked away from the scuffle.

"And so I left him there to act like the pig headed brute he so obviously was and stomped my way all the way up here," Lyla breathed out sharply, finishing her lengthy tale of _Adventure's in Hogsmeade Dating_. "I mean who the bloody hell did he think he was anyway? My savior?" she scoffed, "My knight in ruddy shining Quidditch gear?" Lyla ranted on before Rylie could process all that'd happen to her friend much less get a word in.

Though Lyla wouldn't have heard a word she'd have said had Rylie been successful at cutting her off, for the young red-head was much too caught up in her enraged thoughts once more to pay much attention to those around her. Just as Lyla's ponderings were working her back up into a frenzy that could quite possibly last the whole weekend, Rylie found her voice.

"And that's all?" Rylie asked slowly, if not cautiously, as Lyla flopped backwards on her bed once more, a short frustrated semi-shriek coming from her in the form of a supposed sigh.

"Well, I may have frightened a few students and altered the portraits' view on the Potter name, but other than that yes." Lyla concluded, eyes closed and waiting for her friends response. However no answer met Lyla's ears for many drawn out moments and in a surprisingly investigative mood Lyla found herself uncovering her face—propping herself back up on her elbows to get a better look at her friend.

It was then Lyla noticed Rylie was struggling to stay her snickers. Sighing she reluctantly ground out, "Oh go on then," before falling back onto her bed once again as her friend rolled around on hers—and then consequently the floor—with mirth. Tears were literally rolling down Rylie's flushed and aching cheeks as she banged her fists on the stone floor. Every now and again words like, "Cupids," "Kamikazes" and the occasional, "Tea-Poodle," could be pulled from her hysterics.

At the five minute mark Lyla expected there'd be an intermission but her friend just kept giggling, gasping every now and then from air deprivation. "Are you quite finished then? Or are you waiting till you wet yourself?" came the irritated call from one overly annoyed Lyla.

"I'm done. I'm good. I'm—" whatever else Rylie had been became indiscernible to Lyla through the snort that swallowed up the word. "Ah-ha-hah, oh goodness," Rylie said breathlessly, taking in a lungful of air as she fought to regain her bearings. "That's priceless," she concluded, plopping her still wheezing form back on her bed.

"I'm glad you find my pain so amusing, really I am," Lyla grumbled wryly.

"Oh come on now, don't be like that. If it were anyone else all that happened to you'd still be giggling for weeks after." Rylie reasoned to the bad-tempered Lyla.

"That's beside the point," Lyla said waving her friend's statement off, ignoring the snickering voice—that sounded suspiciously similar to her own—that said Rylie spoke the truth. "Now can we stop thinking about how hysterical my poor unfortunate life is and get back to the topic at hand?"

"Alright," Rylie agree, still smirking at her friend who was still stuck in a mud pit of denial. She paused, puzzled for a second or so, "Wait, what were we discussing again?"

"Oliver." Lyla said shortly.

"What about him?" came Rylie's equally as curt response, though with a lingering sense of perplexity swarming around her.

"Tch," Lyla scoffed, "About what an insensitive, misogynistic, doddering fool he is! I mean—"

As Lyla once again ranted on interminably, Rylie deliberated with herself over how she was going to word her next sentence for she wasn't foolish enough to just come right out and say it, unless she wanted her friend to finally fly off the handle and murder her where she sat. She thought and thought and unfortunately came to the conclusion that she was slightly a bit dotty for there really was no easy way to say what she was adamant—although uneasily so—about bringing up.

"I think you overreacted." She blurted out quickly before she had time to chicken out, cutting Lyla off in the middle of the third verse of the inconsiderate blithering ponce portion of her monologue.

Lyla sat up so fast she was certain she'd have taken a tumble headfirst into the trunk at the foot of her bed had she not caught herself in time. "How can you say that?" she asked in outrage, "Were you not listening at all?"

"Well it is sort of true," Rylie said resolutely, her tone soon turning nervous as Lyla shot her a look that said she best explain and do it quickly. "If you think about it at least...I mean it's not like his one and only goal this day was to make your time in Hogsmeade miserable. How was he to know you didn't like it there—"

"Besides the fact that no one in their right mind would enjoy that place?" Lyla asked scathingly.

"—if you didn't tell him?" Rylie continued, nonplussed by her friend's interruption. "It's a widely known fact by now that Lyla Potter does not just sit back and let things bother her. She takes matters into her own hands and bloody well does something about it. So the fact that you didn't do anything and just let things bottle up, more than likely gave the impression that you were having a grand ol' time," Rylie said conclusively, taking a deep breath to start again once she saw Lyla make to speak again—accurately interpreting what would come from her friend next.

"I'm not saying Oliver didn't make some seriously horrible mistakes—because Merlin did he ever! I'm just saying that maybe you shouldn't take it so hard on him because of it," Rylie said, her voice pleading with Lyla to reconsider her newfound aversion to the much older Gryffindor. Having known precisely what Oliver had intended on asking her dearest friend—and thinking them to be utterly perfect for each other—Rylie was predictably saddened by this horrid turn of events.

She would do whatever it took; say whatever need be said, in order to change her stubborn friend's mind for the sake of their happiness. "After all, it sounds to me like he was trying to make this trip special. Maybe he was trying to work up the nerve to make the two of you official finally..." Apparently however, that had been the wrong thing to say.

Lyla huffed angrily before snarling her next sentence at Rylie, "If that were so, then he shouldn't have chosen the most obnoxiously unromantic place to do it!"

"There's really no reason whatsoever to be biting my head off here!" Rylie said indignantly, "I was only trying to help."

Mouth open in shock, Lyla stared at her friend with wide disbelieving eyes. This was the first time Rylie had ever so much as raised her voice at her friend in anger—which was more precisely annoyance anyway. Lyla felt ashamed, and had the grace to look thus, for the way she was treating her best friend.

"Rye, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take my frustrations out on you really," Lyla said remorsefully, expecting to get snubbed any minute now, though she wouldn't blame her friend for doing so either. She was after all acting like a right awful arse.

"It's alright," Rylie spoke up softly, her voice back to normal as she couldn't stay mad at anyone, much less her best friend, for very long. "I get that you had an awful day and needed someone to vent to." She smiled slightly, "And as the best friend it's my job to dutifully fulfill that position. However, being best friends is reciprocal so when I attempt to help I expect you to actually listen to what I say and not just wave me off like you would Hermione."

Lyla was ever so relieved their fight had ended so abruptly for she didn't think herself altogether capable of fighting with anyone else, let alone her best friend. After the events of the past few hours, Lyla hadn't the energy to stay angry for very much longer anyways. In fact, she felt herself growing tired from exerting herself so much by ranting so frequently. Perhaps it was for the best if she simply listened for a while.

She nodded her head slowly, silently stating that she was ready to listen. Rylie however had already said all that she'd intended to say. "Just think about what I said alright," she requested calmly, knowing full well that Lyla had remembered every word of her short soliloquy.

And though Lyla had wished with all her might to come down with a sudden temporary case of amnesia, Merlin did not grant her that one reprieve. Every word her friend had tried to reason with her with came rushing back to her mind, washing it clear of any traces of still furiously raging anger and replacing said deep and justified vexation with that ever gnawing sense of guilt that soon overflowed Lyla's senses for she knew her friend had spoken the truth.

Heck, she'd come to that conclusion as she was leaping from the window of the tea parlor. Regrettably however, for all those involved, she'd also arrived at the unfortunate realization that she'd had enough of Hogsmeade dates with Oliver. Lyla Potter was literally and quite positively through with them and there wasn't anything anyone—including Rylie—could say to change her mind.

She'd been optimistic about the day beforehand and had desperately tried to maintain said optimism all day but failed horrible as each and every second ticked by. Sure she may have overreacted a tad, but she had a right to it.

Sighing miserably—torn up inside as the newly resurrected irritation battled with her inner guilt—Lyla stood, readying herself to leave, wanting no more of the pity pool party she found her shoulder consciences high diving quite giddily into.

"Regardless," she said softly, saddened but resolute—for she still was very much indeed perturbed with everything—with the decision she had just made, "I'm through with Oliver. It's obvious it wouldn't have worked out anyways..."

Rylie made to speak but Lyla cut her off, "I'm going to go blow off some steam. I'll see you later." She turned and left the room in a fashion highly divergent to her arrival—head down and feet dragging, still marginally miffed with how utterly horrible her day had gone. She was foolish however, to think herself alone in having experienced a bad day.

Dirty. Despondent. Disastrously depressed. These were only a few of the things Oliver felt as he limped his way back up to Gryffindor tower, his shoulders hunched and his head hanging low for he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had blown it big time with Lyla. The only thing he was a bit hazy on was how everything had gone so horribly wrong.

He went over every little detail of their date over and over again in his mind and yet still couldn't figure out what had gone wrong. It couldn't have been anything he'd done, for he'd done everything in his power to make sure Lyla had a nice time. And she seemed like she was! Everything had been going smoothly until those ruddy cupids decided to serenade them.

Oliver would have cursed them for all he was worth had he had the energy. Unfortunately fighting off Lyla's attackers, chasing after the then fleeing girl and his little tryst with Flint had all but drained the 7th year of any and all of his liveliness.

Oliver crinkled his nose as his shoes squished with each step he took, leaving muddy footprints in his wake all throughout the castle for the soon to be enraged caretaker to stumble upon, hopefully quite literally as that would be awfully amusing. Though Oliver was very sorry to say he found little joy in thinking any further on Filch's muddy mishaps.

Growling lowly, Oliver muttered the password to the Fat Lady who seemed rather reluctant to allow such an abomination dirty the insides of Gryffindor tower. He couldn't rightly blame her though. Aside from the blood running from his nose, Oliver was completely covered from head to toe in mud thanks to his impromptu wrestling match with Flint.

Thankfully the animate portrait had no choice in the matter. As it was her job, and he was indeed a student somewhere under all that muck, the Fat Lady let him pass after scolding him on proper hygiene maintenance much to the amusement of her bodyguards as they had neither forgiven nor forgotten Oliver's little calamitous run-in with them earlier that week.

Oliver entered through the portrait, careful not to splash any mud on the walls unless he had suddenly grown fond of the Fat Lady's voice and her lectures. The once bustling common room muddled down at the sight of the lowly 7th year, though he took no notice of this. He passed them all sightlessly, his body on autopilot, leading him without incident to his dormitory.

In his zombie mode, Oliver had neglected to notice the two red heads who curiously followed after him and was otherwise unaware of the verbal thrashing he was about to endure.

Upon reaching his room—although all he'd wanted to do right then in there was collapse on his bed and forget the day ever happened—Oliver headed straight for the bathroom to wash the filth from his bruised body. He returned to the room—cleaned yet still entirely miserable—running a towel over his face and cringing as he accidentally put pressure on what would soon be a black eye.

Oliver slowly and carefully removed the towel from his face, jumping in surprise at the sight of the two bodies that were sprawled languidly across his bed, staring up at him with unbridled, identical expressions of pain.

"Whoa," Fred said in surprise, "What happened to you?"

Oliver stared at his two teammates silently for a few seconds. He hadn't the foggiest how they got in when he knew for a fact that he'd locked the door with an 'impervious to magic' spell. Though he figured it best that he didn't know for one mental image of the two scaling the outside walls of Hogwarts like a pair of ninjas was the things nightmares were made out of and he feared he'd never sleep again should they confirm his suspicions.

Letting out a harsh huff of air Oliver finally replied—an over dramatic 'Hi-yah' resounding in his mind as mini-Ninja Weasleys crash landed into his room via window. "Does is really look that bad?"

The twins glanced at each other before speaking. "You look like you went a few rounds with a cave troll," George said earnestly.

"More like a dungeon troll," Oliver muttered, scowling as he recalled his encounter with Flint.

The mud had obscured the twins' vision from the entire dreadful picture that was their Captain's battered face before but now, they saw clearly the thrashing their friend had obviously undertaken and came to only one valid conclusion. "You blew it didn't you?" they asked together, tearing Oliver away from his ponderings.

Besides the fact that their hypothesis was blatantly obvious, Oliver nodded, scooting pass the twins to retrieve his cloths from his trunk as he felt far too exposed with just a towel around his waist. He quickly changed into some sweats, trying desperately to ignore the two prying pests occupying his bed. To no avail of course, for the Fred and George were far too persistent.

After about the sixth rendition of, "What'd you do to piss Lyla off?" Oliver thought it best to just spew out everything and clear his name quickly rather than continue building up the urge to throttle something. So for the next hour or so, Oliver paced the length of the room, relaying the events of his day back to Fred and George, as they in turned listened intently, guffawing gleefully of course at all the appropriate and inappropriate parts of his terrible tale.

It was only after another half an hour had gone by after Oliver had concluded his sad story that Fred and George were able to breath normally again—a sullen and sulky Oliver, pouting in a corner repeating different variations of the line, "It's not funny!" to the snickering teens, who were slowly turning Smurf from air withdrawal.

Neither of the twins felt it prudent to reply to Oliver's denial-filled mutterings for it was obvious to them and all those involved that the events he had just revealed to them were not only gutbusting-ly humorous but the work of genius. Instead, rather than refute what their friend wanted to believe, Fred and George worked on settling themselves down enough so that they could give their dense companion a detailed rundown of how everything went so wrong and how he himself had caused most of the downfalls of the day.

The mischievous red heads got to their feet—having fallen from their perch during Oliver's tale—prepared to do as planned and force Oliver to see the error of his ways. "The first mistake you made—" Fred started, him and George pacing before the seated Oliver.

"And yes, you did make a plethora of them, contrary to what you may want to believe."

"—was neglecting to ask what Lyla wanted to do. You should have made the day all about her instead of trying to surprise her."

"You can't surprise a girl like Lyla—" George explained.

"At least not with a good surprise."

"—until you get to know her more," George reasoned, going on as Oliver tried to argue. "And don't say you do know her because if you did, you would have been able to at least have a conversation with her, instead of rambling on about Quidditch."

"And plus he wouldn't have taken her to Puddifoot's," Fred cut in turning to his twin who nodded his agreement with his brother's statement, "which brings us to your second and most colossal error."

Oliver felt back into a corner by the two Weasley's as they went on and on, back and forth, each taking their own turn to spew on about the horrors of Puddifoot's, what must have been going through Lyla's mind at the time, and most importantly what a moron Oliver had been for even thinking it was a good idea to take Lyla there. Their rant on the establishment went on for a good ten minutes or so—it seemed they sympathized with Lyla because of some past peccadillo they fell victim to and notably failed to mention at that point in time.

"And why in the name of Merlin's sodding underpants did you order for her?!" George all but shouted, rounding on the uneasy 7th year once more as though finally remembering his presence.

Oliver gulped uncomfortably wondering if he was meant to answer or not. Either way he suddenly found didn't care. He was not just about to sit there and get lectured or yelled at without defending himself. He was Oliver Wood! Gryffindor seventh year! All-star Quidditch keeper and Captain of his house team! He wasn't about to disgrace the Gryffindor crest he wore oh-so-proudly each and every day by standing down to anyone.

Straightening his back, head held high, Oliver cleared his throat to defend his self. "I was asserting myself because girls like that. They're usually so finicky and indecisive, so I took the initiative and saved her the trouble of wrinkling that pretty little forehead of hers."

Several silent seconds swept swiftly by as Oliver's resolute expression stayed firmly in place. Fred and George didn't even have to share a glance as they simultaneously reached the same palpable conclusion. "You're and idiot."

"Plain," Fred started.

"and," George continued.

"Simple," Fred concluded.

Oliver's face fell in embarrassment as his friends mercilessly pierced the fantasy bubble that had been encircling his head, preventing oxygen from getting to his brain. He was merely trying to justify his actions but he should have known better. His mother raised him better than that and she would have tanned his hide had she known what he was thinking.

Oliver shuddered to think what would happen to him should word ever reach his mother's ears. "And further more," Oliver's head snapped up, back to facing the twins. It seemed they had proceeded to rant as he was lost in thought. But unfortunately now that he was back, he could do nothing to tune out the double-act. "You could have fixed all of this when you ran after her," George nearly cried out in frustration.

"Because it sounds to us—" the two continued, stopping their frantic pace of the room and giving the stone floor a temporary reprieve from the further corrosion.

"Like she was willing to give you a second chance—" George's stance was that of a teacher scolding it's pupil, succeeding in making Oliver feel smaller than he already had.

"Something that should be widely known," Fred started, arms flailing to emphasize the magnitude of his words, "and published in **bold **print in the:"

"_Dating Lyla Potter for Idiots Guide Home Journal_," the twins were apparently on a role for thinking alike that day.

"As hardly _ever_ to occur," Fred finished in exasperation.

Finding the desperate need to refill his lungs with air, he let his mirror image cut in, "But you blew it!"

Oliver felt George's words strike a nerve somewhere deep inside him. How had he blown it when he did it all for her? Everything he did that day was entirely for her! How could he have been wrong at all when he'd only had her happiness in mind? Moreover however, Oliver couldn't see how he'd acted brashly at all where Flint was concerned. "How?" he cut in angrily, "All I did was defend her honor?"

"Are you really daft enough to think that's how she sees it?" Fred shouted back quickly, not expecting an answer, "She thinks you stepped in to fight her battle for her—"

"Because you think she's incapable of handling things herself."

"And that's an insult to her pride right there mate," Fred paused for a second or so after he spoke, pondering over what he'd just said, "Or what little she had left after the day you told us you put her through."

Oliver huffed, still completely perturbed that his friends blame him for what had happened; though despite being irritated he was also exhausted. So worn out that he didn't have the energy to fight back when his throat suddenly closed on him, refusing to permit any words pass his lips till he actually thought about what his friends had said to him.

Since he apparently had no choice in the matter—his subconscious saw to that—Oliver sat there in indignant silence thinking back to his day and cringing when he did. He thought about Lyla's reactions to each and every horrible spectacle. And it was only after Aggie brought them there tea in Oliver's mental instant-replay that he saw it.

Lyla wasn't enjoying herself at all. Every smile and laugh he'd remembered to be genuine and utterly overjoyed were fake. Forced to the point of being blatantly obvious to every one it seemed but him. Further more however—and this observation made Oliver feel worse than he had before—it was finally now evident that Oliver caused more damage than even the cupids for Lyla was visible more annoyed with him than them.

Heck she probably would have enjoyed their company had he not been there to ruin everything! Oliver was furious with himself for not noticing earlier. If he had, perhaps he could have turned things around. Could have saved the day! He would have come out on top, enjoying his date with Lyla still, instead of wadding around in a mud pit of shame.

Oliver sighed loudly as he wordlessly waved off his friends, feeling more tired than he ever thought possible. He had given up all hope of ever attaining Lyla Potter as his for good. It was a hopeless cause to pine over someone that was so very clearly out of his league after all. All he could do now was wallow in self-pity and hope to suffocate under his pillow so he wouldn't have to face the next day with the knowledge that he was then and would, more than likely, forever remain to be a clueless sap doomed for failure.

The change in Oliver as he went from angry to despondent was very obvious as his eyes, once narrowed in ire, softened, slumping in syncopation with his stooping head and slouching shoulders. Fred and George shared a silent look after their Quidditch captain waved them off after revealing his proverbial waving of the white flag where Lyla was concerned.

They had decided their next course of action right that very instant. However revealing said plots would have to be left for a later time since it was obvious their team captain needed some time alone to rest and sort his thoughts. The terrible twosome soon shuffled off down to their dorms, zealously muttering plans for their schemes quietly back and forth to one another, agreeing with most and shooting down very few ideas, hoping to rectify the gap between their two friends with a bang of Weasley brilliance.

The storm formerly known as Lyla had settled down to mild winds from the north of the castle building in momentum as her passage was tracked through and to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom where the fully enraged maelstrom started up in full blast again. Leaving the inhabitants—both animate and in—shaking in fear.

Lyla entered her godfather's classroom in a fury, her bad mood from earlier in the day coming back in full swing with some buddies of theirs named Brassed and Off. She couldn't believe the morons Hogwarts allowed within its' illustrious walls! Just thinking about them made her blood boil with the irritation clearly shown on her scowling façade.

"Are you alright?" Remus asked somewhat hesitantly. He'd heard word from numerous frightened portraits that had been scrambling to keep out of his goddaughter's line of fire earlier and was of course concerned for her but more so for his self should it turn out to be he she was upset with.

Lyla snorted at Remus absurd question. Did she look alright to him? He should have been able to tell for his self, after all she was flushed crimson with annoyance, shaking with restrained rage and nearly about ready to burst from aggravation overload. She saw no reason to answer him but her mouth apparently hadn't received that message quick enough. "I'm perfectly peachy, downright ducky in fact," she spat sourly.

Remus raised an eyebrow, highly doubting she was anywhere near what she'd claimed. Perturbedly peachy possibly, though her answer was downright dodgy enough for him to conclude that she was being duplicitous. "No you're pointedly peachy leaving me to conclude that you're hiding something."

Lyla's expression turned sardonic as she theatrically gasped in amazement. "Your keen sense of observation astounds even me, Remus. Tell me, did you arrive at that conclusion based on the sarcasm or disdain in my voice?"

To reply at this point in time with anything that sounded remotely smartarse-ish meant certain death by means of verbal assault. Remus knew this well; had suffered the consequences of a Lyla bantering whilst incensed many times before. There was no chance of winning against her while she was as irately stubborn as she currently was. Therefore he chose the only path to lead him out of the fire as unscathed as possible: he returned to the topic at hand.

Despite the fact that it would have been far more intelligent to avoid the subject altogether, he was by then far too curious for his own good. "So what's wrong then? Didn't you have a nice time on your..._date_?" Remus spat out 'date' with much distaste for he still disapproved of the budding relationship between his young goddaughter and the much older and more experienced Oliver Wood.

Crossing her arms as she carefully leaned against a wall, Lyla snorted, "You mean my horrible Hogsmeade date from hell?"

"You really do fancy alliterations today, don't you?" Remus asked before he could stop himself. It literally felt like a compulsion to ask it and Remus was helpless to fight against its ever determined pull.

Face scrunched and lips pursed, it was obvious not only from her facial expression but her stance as well that Lyla was in no mood to be mocked. "Would you like to be mutually muddy? 'Cause we can do that," she shot back just as quickly, her eyes narrowing as though daring her Professor to say something else and give her the reason she'd been itching for to retaliate.

Now even though Remus had indeed noticed the state Lyla had been in when she entered his classroom, he had enough sense about him not to say anything till she brought it up. Though the smarter choice by far, once again, would have been to say nothing at all but...that was apparently a characteristic both lacked that day. "Might I inquire what precisely it was that had transpired without such an occurrence taking place?"

Without leaving time to even blink Lyla shot back her retort, "Only if you stop talking like you've got a proper etiquette pamphlet for the priss and proper shoved up your arse." If Remus wanted an all out war of words then she'd bloody well give him one. After all there was no one else in the whole of Hogwarts that had more one liner's than her so she'd no doubt of her ability to triumph over her godfather.

Having been put—entirely against her will—through the ringer that day, Lyla found herself completely fed up. She'd had enough of the world, and everyone thing in it, being out to get her that day. First the fiasco date at Puddifoot's and all the horrors that lied therein, then Flint with his unwanted and, especially noted, unwarranted innuendos aimed at her person!

And just when she thought everything had settled back down to the way things were—and the world bared no more ill will or grudge against her—exactly when she was finally able to grasp some semblance of calm!! She slips...on a mud puddle—far more than likely—strategically situated in the middle of the well used corridor. Though puddle was understating it a tad; it was more accurately a stream of ever flowing mud that continuously coursed down the hall in all its mucky goodness.

She had virtually saw red at that moment. The color only intensified the second she attempted to relieve herself of her present predicament and lift her tired body from the floor for she had placed her hand in something unfavorably squishy. If she ever found out who the arse was that tracked mud all over the castle and neglected to put up caution signs for klutzes like her, she'd bloody clobber them! Their own mother's wouldn't be able to recognize them after she drowned them in their own mud puddles, she'd guarantee that.

Since fate was adamant in remaining an intangible little bastard, Lyla had to settle for taking her rage out on a more solid arse.

Remus coughed roughly after a few seconds of blankly staring at his goddaughter, his eyes wide with a great deal of shock at her last jab. He hadn't heard her speak to him like that in a good long while...and the last time it was entirely his fault—he'd admit to that now though not to her for he wasn't completely dead from the head up yet.

It was finally clear to him. He no longer had any doubts. His goddaughter, Lyla Lily Potter, was in a foul mood. One of the foulest he'd ever witnessed of her in fact.

The only probable choice of action—that would cause the least amount of damage to his person, pride, and ego—was to carry on with whatever she said. Though he very much did wish to go blow for blow in a verbal match of 'who can one up who?' he had enough sense in him to squash that aspiration, knowing he didn't stand a snowball's chance in the Sahara with Lyla as fired up as she was.

Remus inquired the details of her day as unsophisticatedly as he could. He sat back at his desk and listened intently as Lyla retold the events that led her to his classroom for the second time that day. She paced back and forth before his seated form, working herself up into hysterics once again. Though Remus was very much in hysterics as well—they were for entirely contradictory reasons. Once again however, Remus was far too concerned with preserving what little health he had to risk goading his goddaughter into a rampage.

When she finished her tale, Remus schooled his face into a neutral—nonchalant—sympathizing expression, and nodded his head in understanding—not that he actually comprehended half of what she was feeling for he was entirely too preoccupied with detaining his amusement while Lyla was still so near and so obviously unpredictable.

He watched as she threw herself haphazardly in a chair, arms tightly crossed around her torso as she pouted over her ruined day. She sighed then, her eyes softening her glare as they gradually grew glassy, "I guess that's it then." She spoke so softly and so sadly that Remus felt his own heart breaking, seeing her in so much pain. He opened his mouth to comfort her but she continued on, speaking more to herself than him, "No more Oliver and Lyla, or ruddy happily ever afters."

Remus grew suddenly uneasy. What was he supposed to say to that? How was he supposed to talk to his goddaughter about boys? Of all things to make her this unhappy it just had to be a boy! He was at a complete loss. Not only for how to make her feel better but on how to get his message across that he didn't even want her thinking about boys let alone seeing one!

Gulping loudly to remove the lump from his throat, Remus resolved to just come right out and say it. This was Lyla after all; any beetling around the subject would only worsen the situation. It was best to just be completely honest and straightforward with her.

Though being straightforward had nothing to do with making eye contact with her—Remus knew he wouldn't be able to go through with it had he been required to do that. He sighed loudly in relief, gaining Lyla's confused, yet curious, attention. "Well that's good then," he spoke jovially—thinking his tone alone would lighten the tension in the room, which may have worked had his voice not cracked halfway through his sentence.

Remus cleared his throat quickly before going on, "You don't need to be dating anyone now anyways; especially someone that much older than you. I wouldn't have allowed it." Remus nearly felt a slap in the face hit him as he realized exactly what he'd just said and the events that would undoubtedly occur because of them.

The change in Lyla was instantly perceptible to Remus. She had gone from sulking over some worthless boy to ready to hex her favorite—only! Remus' mind sneered at him—godfather in less time than it took Remus to become conscious of his blunder.

Lyla kept her relaxed pose in her seat for there was no need to move to get her point across. She simply tilted her head to the side, her eyes virtually asking, 'you're not serious are you' to her uneasy godfather. She spoke deliberately, each syllable drawn calculatingly slow. Her eyebrow quirking just slightly in disbelief that Remus had actually said what he had and understood the depth of the hole he'd just dug for himself.

"You are aware that, had I not previously chosen to give up on _ever_ dating Oliver, I would have just done it because of what you said right?" Remus nodded hesitantly, still cringing, awaiting the eruption of anger he expected to burst from Mt. Lyla any moment now. "It's a good thing I already gave up on him now in't? Otherwise you would've started something I know you want absolutely no part of," Lyla spoke cheerfully, doing a complete one-eighty from her earlier tone.

Remus collapsed in his seat, which was a feat in and of itself considering he was already seated, at Lyla's sprightly words. He silently thanked Merlin right then and there that he hadn't expressed his concerns to Lyla previously like he had planned, else she'd already be dating the bloke, regardless of what he had to say about it. Yes today was indeed a lucky day—though he'd never say that to the unstable one for he'd rather keep his jollies dangling.

250


	26. Chapter 26

- Chapter 26 -

[V-Day: Morning of Interruptions]

February fourteenth. Valentine's Day: one of the most important days of the year for any young girl with hormones. A day of love and happiness, filled with flowers and hearts galore. A day that could very easily, in the blink of an eye, go one of two ways for any adolescent teen girl. A day where an individual will either find everlasting love or eternal heartache for there are no in between these two extremes on this momentously loathed holiday.

Lyla Potter, merely thirteen years in age and during all her few years breathing on this planet has never quite seen the purpose of such an agonizingly pointless holiday. Though this year of course, considering the extenuating circumstances, these thoughts and feelings of hers were significantly more intense than they'd ever been previously. It wasn't exactly that she hated Valentines Day; she just didn't particularly see a reason to overly express ones devotion on a specific day.

"Why condense all that emotion into one 24-hour time span when you could just be openly honest and adoring all the time? Keeping all those affections pent up for so long, it's a wonder no one's literally blown up yet, right?" Lyla asked her obviously disinterested friend as they ambled on down a corridor to their first class of the day: Care of Magical Creature.

Though Rylie was very much indeed, blatantly ignoring her friend's record breaking 5th rant that morning, she had caught enough of Lyla's passionate words to not only understand what she was going on about but more importantly pass as though she were listening as intently as Lyla believed she was. In reality however, the girl couldn't have been farther from paying attention to her friend, for her attention was more aptly drawn in the direction of a fascinating male specimen in her opinion: one Ronald Weasley, who was more or less entirely oblivious to the girl's dreamy, unblinking, gaze and more notably bottled affections.

"Why celebrate love one day a year when it's constantly floating around the other 364 ¼ days waiting to smack you in the face!" Lyla breathed deeply, having forgotten that air was a necessity when ranting. While struggling to regain her wind she gazed about the Entrance Hall as she and Rylie moseyed towards their the front doors.

Rylie sighed thankful that Lyla had finally stuffed a cork in it. She knew she'd damned herself by making that 'best friends' speech to Lyla that previous weekend. All she wanted to do was stare at Ron, possibly even work up the nerve to ask him to be her valentine—though knowing deep down she'd never be that daring.

Yet there she was stuck listening to her best friend scoffing at all the 'lovesick little igits' swarming the corridors—Rylie of course muffling an indignant 'Hey!' at this. She could have kicked her ruddy self, she swore, for Lyla looked on the verge of going on yet another glorious tirade.

Lyla's eyes perused the hall, twitching maddeningly as hormonal robot after robot skittered by her, gazing affectionately at their specific android of adoration. She sighed then, and in complete syncopation with her friend groaned, "It's going to be a long day."

Oliver stood anxiously in the middle of the familiar spacious grandeur of Hogwarts' Great Hall. The girl of his dreams, third year Gryffindor Lyla Potter, stood opposite him, impatiently shuffling from side to side. Oliver smiled over at Lyla as he nervously started his confession—still in disbelief himself that he was actually going through with it. "Lyla," he said softly, "There's no other way for me to say this without sounding like the bumbling idiot I so often turn into around you, so I'm just going to come right out and say it."

He took a deep and shaky breath and before he could reconsider the multitude of humiliating ego-crushing consequences his next words could possibly prompt, he perilously plowed on, "I'm in love with you Lyla."

Lyla stood stock-still, staring at him completely and utterly dumbfounded. Oliver knew he'd caught her off guard with his revelation for she stood there staring at him in shock for several distressing seconds filled with no sound but Oliver's shaky breaths; his heart pulsating vociferously in his chest in anticipation for that fated moment when his love would vocally return his adoration.

Sadly as the seconds ticked by it became obvious to all those involved that his hopes were dangling far too high. In fact they were teetering dangerously on the edge of a precipice overlooking a vast grotto of shattered dreams that had likewise been slain against the jagged rocks lining the base of the cavern. Or at least that's how Oliver's imagination pictured the scenario. The deciding factor of imminent annihilation, or his only chance of survival, lay in the girl's next words.

Lyla blinked slowly as Oliver's declaration finally seemed to break through her mind's defenses. Her mouth, that had just moments earlier laid slack jawed hanging in the nonexistent wind of the Great Hall, snapped closed with an audible pop. Her lips quirking bit by bit till they had progressed into a full blown smile, the look single-handedly settling Oliver's fraying nerves.

His heart seemed to have skipped the notorious beat he'd heard so much about as his hopes regained its equilibrium. Lyla had yet to speak, and Oliver dare not breathe let alone blink for fear of missing any part of her response.

The crowd of meddlesome onlookers seemed to be eagerly awaiting Lyla's reaction as well, their breaths also hitched for the full five seconds it took Lyla to respond in some way so they—being mindless followers themselves—would know how to appropriately react to the situation.

Lyla opened her mouth again, what seemed to be a genuine smile still etched upon her face. What came next however wasn't what Oliver had anticipated. Lyla's smile, which had at first seemed soothing and sincere, distorted in Oliver's mind's eye till it more closely resembled the mocking smirk the girl was so famous for. She didn't say a word. She didn't need to either. With that one last look Oliver understood what a fool he had been.

In a matter of seconds Lyla's head was thrown back, her mouth open in the most joyous howl of laughter she could muster. The laugh wasn't short and to the point neither, but rather drawn out into several stanzas rhythmically broken by the occasional snort or desperate gasp for air.

Her laugh had, unfortunately cued in the crowd of simple-minded students who had finally deemed it time to choose a course of action. This, of course, was to follow Lyla's lead. Whether doubled over, red in the face, or barely able to breathe let alone hang onto each other for support, it was evident who they were laughing at.

Oliver's mind was furiously speeding on the highway of analysis, on the verge of going on a Lyla-themed rampage as he proceeded to swiftly examine his quandary. Each and every student in the Great Hall was laughing. All of the members of the staff were chortling gleefully. They weren't even bothering to hide it. Dumbledore. McGonagall. Snape. Even that detestable worm Filch! And at him! Each and every single one of the blasted wankers were pointing and laughing at one of Oliver's more brilliant arse-ups.

He could barely put up with it. Not only was he humiliated, but heartbroken as well. Though perhaps it was his fault; it was possible that he was just not meant to be with Lyla. Fate seemed to have it in for the two of them as it was; he may as well just give up now.

Oliver's head swarmed with all these horrible thoughts as the multiple nameless faces continued laughing at his misfortune. Just as he felt about ready to burst from anxiety, and shout, and—quite probably—curse everyone and anyone within hexing distance, a body moved into the scene, distracting Oliver from his violent desires.

Marcus Flint, 7th year Slytherin and Oliver's one true arch nemesis, sauntered into Oliver's line of vision, slowly making his way towards the still snickering Lyla. 'Of all the billions of people in the world, it just had to be Flint, didn't it?' Oliver growled lowly, his temperament steadily growing worse by the second with each and every pompous step Flint took towards Lyla.

Oliver reached for his wand but before his hand had even made it halfway to his pocket Flint had already made his fatal move. Whatever Oliver had expected to happen it certainly wasn't this. Flint had his hands all over _his_ Lyla! He was dipping her. She was in his arms. He was leaning in and...

Eyes wide and mouth dropped open in horror; Oliver literally felt his brain explode. Marcus Flint had just and was currently still...no. It was just _too_ horrible for Oliver to admit. The sound of flesh slapping harshly against flesh met Oliver's ears and at first he thought Lyla had came to her senses and slapped Flint for...what he'd just done. However, he had to toss that theory out the window when his forehead started throbbing; stinging from the slap it had just received courtesy of his own hand.

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose; his eyes scrunched shut in pain from the blow he'd just delivered to his cranium as well as the kick below the belt his ego just endured. Taking a deep breath, Oliver counted backwards from five—feeling he didn't have the time to spare to start at ten—trying to convince himself that he wasn't going to see what he thought he was going to see when he opened his eyes.

Sadly, when Oliver found the courage to face his potential fears, he found his hallucination to have been of the real sort. He was still standing in the middle of Hogwarts' Great Hall with the whole of the school's inhabitants snickering at him. Lyla was still standing across from him but he was no longer the object of her attention.

Her head was still thrown back but her mouth was no longer full of laughter as it was otherwise preoccupied at the moment with Flint's tongue. He had the spirited Gryffindor of Oliver's dreams dipped back romantically and was kissing her!

That slimy no good snake was kissing Oliver's girl! Entirely against her will as was painfully obvious! In this moment of realization, Oliver saw red. His sight narrowing, having been completely taken over by tunnel vision till all he saw was Flint forcing himself on Lyla; repeatedly planting sloppy kiss after kiss on her unwilling lips as she struggled to break free of his arms.

The only problem with Oliver's theory was that Lyla for all matters of appearance was not trying to relieve herself of Flint and his messy affections but rather get a better grip of the boy. If Oliver were to have looked more closely instead of jumping the gun to outrageous conclusions like he had, he would have seen this. And yes, he would have saved himself a lot of embarrassment as well.

Oliver didn't even think back to his conversation with the twins a few nights earlier, he just dove head on, intent on being the hero and sweeping Lyla off her feet. With complete disregard for the consequences Oliver rapidly reduced the distance between himself and the pair. Roughly grasping Flint by his shirt collar, Oliver tore the two apart, essentially saving Lyla from the torment and impending doom that was drowning via troll spit.

He could just see it now. Her tear-filled eyes sparkling with emotion, trembling hands clasped at her chest in relief that she had been saved. Her lips—which would without a doubt hold most of his attention—quivering with unspoken gratitude, clearly awaiting the appropriate moment to express said appreciation.

Oliver felt himself smiling with pride that he could achieve such a reaction from the girl. Anticipating the best, Oliver giddily turned, settling his eager face down to a more concerned expression, ready to play the worried card if needed. However before he could even form the words to inquire if Lyla was alright or not, his mouth was violently shut for him when a vicious slap connected with his cheek—and though he was quite unaccustomed to being whacked in the face, Oliver found he was oddly getting used to the sensation.

Though that didn't by any means suggest it didn't hurt. Rubbing his palm over the side of his face, Oliver winced; no doubt there'd be a bruise there by morning. His mind was already contemplating the various manly stories he'd tell his mates on how he'd gotten the contusion for he'd rather die drowning in troll spit than tell them the girl he fancied beat him up.

Reality soon came back into vision as Oliver's eyesight cleared up. Instead of the doe-eyed, gleeful girl swooning at his feet like Oliver had expected—and vividly imagined—Oliver was most unfortunately once again faced with a frighteningly perturbed Lyla. Perhaps he should have listened more carefully to the multiple warnings Fred and George had spewed at him not even two days earlier.

Oliver's mind raced with how to make things better and quickly...How to get Lyla to stop glaring at him as though he were the lowest form of scum. Though it was most opportune, for now, that he didn't get that far for knowing his luck, he'd only make things worse. He in fact only managed to stutter out a muffled, "Wha?"—that being the only sound he was capable of at the moment—before he was cut off.

"Don't touch me!" Lyla shrieked maddeningly, "Don't you ever touch me!" Oliver was momentarily struck once more by just how gorgeous the 3rd year was to him. With emerald eyes that shone with the flame of fury that burned deep within her and threatened to bubble free from containment and incinerate those within its vicinity. A mouth twisted into a snarl, quivering at the ready to let loose an undoubtedly horrid string of insults aimed specifically at his person.

In short, she was simply breathtaking.

Alas, however attractive Oliver may have thought Lyla to be at that moment still did not overrule the side of him that was thoroughly convinced _he_ was completely in the right for how he'd reacted. This side of Oliver was also, regrettably, far stronger than his reasonable side. There was in fact a mental wrestling match broadcasting live from his subconscious which lasted all of five seconds as his self-righteous side put a sleeper hold on his more reasonable side and then proceeded to pound it into submission, ignoring the many pleas to not further piss the female Potter off.

The millions of thoughts racing haphazardly through the many lanes in his head at the moment had simultaneously reached the same conclusion he had already dwindled down to: Lyla had no right whatsoever to be upset with him.

Oliver was fully prepared to tell her this as well—with varying degrees of pleading undertones of course, for he was no fool!—not taking into account the argument that would undoubtedly follow. Drawing himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest like a pompous seagull as well, Oliver inhaled deeply; ready to defend his actions, even though he was entirely certain his actions need not be defended.

Huffing indignantly Oliver opened his mouth and let loose what would indisputably be known as _the_ stupidest thing ever said to one Lyla Potter. "I really don't know why you're so upset Lyla," he said quite loudly feeling his anger bubble out of control.

It was quite true as well. He hadn't an inkling as to why the lass was so brassed. It wasn't as though he'd insulted her or anything. No, he was simply doing what any decent bloke would by running to her rescue. After all he didn't think she'd actually want to be kissed by that troll in Hogwarts' uniform. He didn't overreact. He knew that. Heck if anyone were guilty of acting brashly it was Lyla! She did after all viciously slap him. And without provocation no less!

Seeing as his actions were warranted—in his mind at least—Oliver felt he was in the right, plain and simple. Lyla's anger was not justified. He would have dearly loved to have thrown this revelation in her face along with the less intelligent garbled caveman jargon of, 'Me man. You woman. Me right. You wrong. Deal with it.' Fortunately this comment had only momentarily flitted through his mind before he stopped his unruly mouth from forming the words.

True Oliver would have liked to have said that but thankfully he wasn't terminally stupid, just marginally so apparently since he always seemed to get himself into these situations. He instead began working on a more subtle way to say basically the same thing but unfortunately, Oliver's next train of thought never quite reached the station.

The now entirely familiar sting against his cheek had the warning bells in Oliver's mind belatedly sounding off. The blow to his face was so fierce this time and so unexpected that it knocked Oliver clear off his feet and right on his arse. He glanced up angrily, expecting the wallop to have originated from a finally retaliating Flint. He was flabbergasted however to find Lyla standing over him once again putting all her might behind the ferocious glare that was most unfortunately _still_ aimed at his person.

Her rage seemed to have finally reached its boiling point as she glared down at the literally floored Oliver. "You man. You moron!" Lyla growled, doing her best impersonation of a loutish cave man. It was only then that Oliver realized he must have spoken his angry thoughts aloud, much to his utter disbelief and mortification.

Oliver's multitude of mindless reassurances that he would never act so foolishly turned around and scuttled away, snickering at him and his latest blunder. Perhaps it was all the knocks to the head that had him going terminally stupid but Oliver couldn't seem to fathom how he could say something like that and yet be none-the-wiser until after the consequences were in full swing.

Lyla, quite obviously, did not take well to Oliver playing hero for her once again, nor was she altogether alright with being told what's what by anyone let alone Oliver. Who was he to judge who she fancied? Who was he to decide what's best for her? Or who she could and couldn't associate with? These thoughts infuriated Lyla to no end and her anger became more and more palpable as the seconds ambled by.

Her eyes narrowed, lips stretched into a thin aggravated line across her face. Her hands were clenched tightly into fists, arms stuck down straight by her sides in an extravagant stance of bubbling rage. She sputtered on the spot, so angry she couldn't form words for a few seconds as she recalled all of what he must have mistakenly divulged.

Finally, after giving a slightly muffled screech, Lyla stomped her foot childishly, moving to lay the final blow to Oliver's poor pitiful person. "Marcus," she spoke slowly, her voice strained and viciously cool, "is more of a man than you'll ever be." Straightening her stance and looking haughtier than ever, Lyla crossed her arms across her chest and continued to casually cause more trauma to Oliver's already shattered ego.

"I'd choose him over you any day," she whispered nastily, pausing slightly to revel in the pain she'd caused, before sauntering over to the slimy snobbish Slytherin himself, wrapping her arms around his neck as his instinctively fell to her waist. Lyla stared up at Flint with such adoration it would have made Oliver sick; had his mind been able to comprehend exactly what was happening.

"Let's go find something else to keep us entertained Lyla," Flint suggested, steering an obedient Lyla passed a stationary Oliver who only moved to stare at the couple as they meandered by. He was in complete denial at this point of course. That couldn't have possibly just happened to him. Lyla couldn't have chosen Flint over _him_.

Panic gradually started flooding Oliver's mind. What if all this was just an elaborate—though admittedly well thought out—scheme to keep him off his game? Would Lyla willingly go along with something like this? What if he was controlling Lyla somehow? What if—wait...'They're leaving!' Oliver's frantic mind screamed at him.

As he glanced up to stare at their retreating forms, Flint's words resounded loudly in his head till his mind finally managed to grasp their meaning. 'Entertainment?! What sort of entertainment?!'

Oliver scrambled to his feet, not about to stand idly by while Flint controlled and manipulated Lyla like that. For he was positive there was no other explanation for why Lyla was acting as antagonistic towards him as she was. Really, besides that minor slip up earlier, he had done nothing wrong.

The devoted couple was nearing the Great Hall doors when Oliver found the voice to speak. "Lyla!" he shouted out hoarsely. "Please don't go...don't leave me," he breathed out desperately, pleading with her to come to her senses. Though he felt a stab at his pride to do so, he knew he'd continue on begging if that's what it took.

Lyla slowed to a stop along side a puzzled Flint. The action alone caused Oliver's battered hopes to bandage themselves up and soar once more into the air. He was still ever hopeful that she would come running back to him.

Quite unfortunately however, when Lyla finally turned to face him, he had no doubts left in his mind. She wasn't being controlled by anyone. Oliver quite literally disgusted her. His heart plummeted to his stomach as his hopes were finally smashed against the bottom of a rocky ravine.

There was no mirth in Lyla's glaring eyes. No joy to be found...no notion to indicate that she was as thrilled with his presence as he was with hers. There was only revulsion and loathing. Written across her face as clear as day, dragged along by a distasteful sneer. It was an expression he had never seen etched into her features, a look so malevolent Oliver had to take a step back away from Lyla from sheer shock. A shiver of fear ran down his spine—his subconscious dreading what was coming next.

In his haste to step away from the glowering 3rd year, Oliver tripped over his own feet sending his body toppling to the floor for what was probably the fifth time that day. His eyes were cringed shut with embarrassment at how much of a klutz he must've looked like. All at once the tense silence broke with a loud snort, which seemed to derive from Lyla herself, once again causing a ripple effect to pass over the crowded Great Hall.

Lyla's echoing laughter thankfully lasted a much shorter time. As the others continued snickering at him, Lyla leered down at Oliver from her superior height. "What a pathetic pup you make Oliver," she sneered cruelly and it was finally then that Oliver realized that this person wasn't his Lyla. His Lyla would never be so malicious. His Lyla would never taunt him like this and surely his Lyla would _never_ willingly kiss Flint and then enjoy it.

"One quick question before we take our leave of you," but even knowing this didn't stop Oliver's heart from breaking. Oliver couldn't bear to look at the replica of the girl he so eagerly gave his heart to as she carelessly stomped all over it. He turned from her but Lyla wasn't having it, "Look at me, Wood!" Reluctantly he raised his eyes to hers. Seemingly satisfied with his obedience, Lyla spoke again, not bothering to keep the smirk from her face, "Can you swim mutt?"

His confusion was brief as her words and over all amusement cut through Oliver like a knife. He wished the floor would just open up and swallow him already, just for a slight reprieve from the torture he was enduring. The shrieking sound of laughter echoed about the cavernous room as Oliver slunk backwards away from the laughing couple, wishing more than ever for the ability to become invisible.

It was more than he could take. He couldn't handle it anymore. Suddenly and without warning he leapt to his feet, ready to flee from the embarrassing escapade Lyla and Flint were viciously reenacting. He looked everywhere for an easily accessible escape route farthest form the chortling duo before remembering there was only one way out of the Great Hall—for students at least.

The laughter surrounding him was growing louder, echoing in the vast chamber he was trapped within. Oliver covered his ears but the sound insistently burst through the fingers wedged in deep to his eardrums. Oliver was trembling. He'd at first thought it was from trauma; both emotional and physical he'd been forced to suffer through along with the stifling feeling of being caged. However further perusal of his surroundings told him otherwise.

It was not just him. The very walls of Hogwarts majestic Great Hall were shaking. Trembling, it appeared, from the echoing guffaws resounding around the enclosed confines. Though all this was very much indeed inconsequential to Oliver at the present time. The more pressing dilemma that refused to leave Oliver's conscious thought for even a second was how he was going to escape the spectacle while Lyla and Flint were, regrettably—though more precisely, purposely—blocking his only exit.

The thought of ducking his head submissively and squeezing by them made him uncomfortably queasy with dread. He could always make a run for it of course. Bowl right over them to get to the double doors and all. Just as this thought entered his rather frantic mind and he made a move to act his essentially solitary option out the happenings of his surroundings breached the stubborn barrier of Oliver's furiously cluttered mind.

Watching in horror-filled fascination seemed about the only thing he could do as the sturdy stone walls of the Great Hall began to crumble before his very wide and disbelieving eyes. The occurrence successfully managed to drag his distraught mind's attention from his misery long enough for him to process all that was going on. Predictably his thoughts of fleeing the room no longer seemed as daunting or as imperative as they had moments prior to this discovery.

Now the only thoughts racing through Oliver's worried mind was—once again—how to save Lyla, as it seemed she was in extreme danger and was as of yet unaware of her predicament. She was too busy making a mockery of him with Flint and enjoying every second of it to take much notice. So it was up to Oliver to get her out of harms way.

Oliver weaved and dodged out of the path of falling debris, stumbling as he made his way to Lyla. He was nearly there. Five more feet and he'd be able to touch her. Rescue her as was presently his only desire. To swipe her off her feet and whisk her away to some safe and secluded section of the castle where she could then thank him in the appropriate fashion.

It didn't occur to Oliver that it may have been far more intelligent of him to have simply done nothing because the thought of Lyla being more than capable of saving herself was too far fetched for his narrow Neanderthal-like mind to grasp. Instead he perilously plunged ahead, fully intending on proving his idiocy once and for all.

Fortunately he never made it that far. Just as Lyla had marginally calmed herself down from her hysterics and turned to face the sprinting _hero_ of this tale, Oliver found himself in a most timely predicament. Rather than heroically sweeping his damsel off her feet like he'd intended, Oliver was overcome with a ghastly disease that only he seemed susceptible to, in other words—in case you find this difficult to follow along with: he had a bit of a clumsy moment.

Oliver wasn't particularly positive what had happened. Whether it was him, in his excitement and haste, that failed see the bit of ceiling that inopportunely fell in his path or the klutzy spasm that shot up his leg prohibiting him from functioning properly, he didn't know. All he was certain of at that point in time was the sensation of falling.

He shut his eyes, not wanting to believe that his big hero scene was cut short because of a case of the klutz. His foot had slipped. His body pitched forward ready to tumble to the ground. Though, curiously enough, the floor wasn't exactly there to greet him.

When no negative impact befell his falling frame, Oliver cracked open his wondering, though entirely apprehensive, eyes. This however proved quite useless as darkness had overwhelmed his sense of sight immediately following this action.

Panic had once again begun to bubble within Oliver's spastic mind. He had only closed his eyes for a moment and now he'd no clue where he was. Well apart from wherever it was being unbearably dark. Like some sort of abyss or something. Perhaps Flint had done something unspeakably evil—though not completely uncharacteristic of a Slytherin like him. That would certainly explain the dark part of Oliver's predicament.

Not the continuing sensation of falling however. That was something entirely different altogether yet equally as imperative to his imminent demise. Having thought this quite belatedly Oliver's mind fumbled with how to best counteract his situation to—for once—save his own hide. Unfortunately it became ever so apparent that Oliver was not exactly at his bests during moments of crises.

The only thing he could think to do was grasp around blindly for some unseen, and therefore nonexistent, object to slow his descent. So there he fell, flailing about spastically for said fictional object that would either slow or more preferably stop his rapid descent into darkness.

Oliver's eyes, though altogether useless in his current fix, wildly examined every inch of the black space around him. His perusal eventually brought his eyes upward. His breath caught. There was a light. At the end of the vast funnel he was sailing down it shone brightly against the blackness.

As Oliver strained his eyes to focus more clearly on the beam of illumination, he only hoped and prayed to whatever deity was listening—or more accurately gleefully watching on—that it wasn't anything that would make his problems potentially more problematic.

He was in luck. The first bit of it in fact that had thoughtfully struck his person since he gained interest in Lyla. It wasn't anything harmful but rather informative. There, directly about his prone body, was a jagged, gaping tear in the floor of Hogwart's Great Hall from what he could make out.

He guessed he had fallen into it—though how he could have slipped into something that large and not realize it or see it coming, he'd no clue. As far as he knew he wasn't under the influence of anything. Nor had he recently followed any white rabbits, so he wasn't excluding his theory on all this being Flint's doing just yet.

From what he could tell he was falling into the depths of the castle—possibly even the Chamber of Secrets he'd heard so much about the previous year. Oliver ignored the shiver of fear that ran down his spine at the thought of encountering any as of yet undiscovered beasties the castle was hiding—as the there were more pressing matters to deal with.

The fissure above him was still, quite rapidly, spilling bits of Hogwarts down its drain. Rather large bits in fact, that were very quickly gaining on him. Oliver's mind had barely processed this new information—leaving no time for Oliver to panic on how best to dodge the falling debris—when he felt his body go through something cold.

A splash momentarily met his ears before they too were engulfed. The water was freezing, as though Oliver had just been plunged into the Black lake itself. There was no time to think about that however. The momentum of his fall had dragged Oliver far under the surface and farther still as he pondered the water's temperature.

He couldn't breathe. Having been dunked so suddenly Oliver hadn't had the time to take a deep breath. He foolishly attempted to take in air then but only ingested more water than he'd ever cared to. He was running out of oxygen. He had to do something fast...It was too late, he was...

Oliver sputtered for air; gaining consciousness as his body became viciously reintroduced to the harsh stone of his dormitory's floor in a chaos of limbs and quilt that would not soon be forgotten in the minds of all those present. Eyes wide and as alert as possible after having just rejoined the land of the living, Oliver scanned the room from his tangled position on the floor. Actually able to see and not currently submerged, choking on water Oliver sighed in relief, realizing it had all been a dream, or nightmare as was more accurate.

Groaning drowsily, Oliver began to struggle his way out of his makeshift cocoon muttering as he thrashed about unsuccessfully, "Whatever happened to standing bare-arsed in class while McGonagall bent my ear on my lack of uniform?"

After fighting with his blankets for a few more seconds, Oliver finally managed to relieve himself of them, a feat that should be noted as great considering how shaken from his dream he still was, as well the fact that he was still between consciousness' at the time.

Hauling himself to his feet Oliver glanced at his bedside clock. The alarm had been disabled soon after his roommates departed for classes _he_ should have been attending, as he didn't feel altogether up to facing Hogwart's hormonally imbalanced female population that day, knowing what a disaster that would prove to be.

It was nearly noon...before long classes would let out for lunch.

Oliver's stomach growled loudly at this—he had skipped dinner the night before and slept through that morning's breakfast—but not even the impending threat of starvation was dragging Oliver from his sanctuary that day. Not when he was sure to get hounded by girls left and right. More so however, because Lyla was most assuredly receiving a similar fate and that was not something Oliver wished to see. Ever.

There wasn't even any question in Oliver's decision as he turned to hop back into bed—not to sleep, for surely none would come after the nightmare that had just gleefully tormented him—but rather to aimlessly stare at the ceiling in misery, wishing changes to things that would most definitely never happen.

However, Oliver never made it back to his bed. A fright like none other had shocked Oliver into jumping at the sight before him. The bed he had only just recently vacated was now once again occupied by Fred and George Weasley; experts in all things prank and scheme-worthy—a fact that should have been recognized right then and there by the disoriented and frightened Oliver Wood.

The presence of the twins wouldn't have been odd had the red-heads actually been his roommates. However the two weren't even in the same year as Oliver let alone the same dorm! Further more, Oliver had been awake when all his dorm mates had left. He was positive once again that he'd locked the door as well. More than that he had barricaded said door with various implements of destruction and yet there the twins lazed, perched comfortable and content while Oliver was on the verge of an aneurysm.

One glance at the door—after calming his racing heart of course—showed precisely what Oliver had feared: nothing. Not a single object or trace of spell was obstructing the entrance to the seventh year Gryffindor boys' dormitory. All at once great feats of daring rapidly ran through Oliver's imagination so as to explain the Weasley's sudden presence in his bed. All dwindled down to the same ninja-centric hypothesis Oliver had been struggling, but failed, to disprove.

Slowly turning back to face the ninja nuisances that were currently boggling his mind, Oliver hoped with all his might that they were merely visiting their team Captain and not up to something as they were far more prone to be. After all Oliver didn't think he could quite handle anymore surprises. He'd just had the worst dream in the history of worst dreams and the only thing worse than enduring that was staring him in the face when he finally turned.

He was outnumbered as was usually the case. What's more though, he was potentially about to be dragged into some outrageous scheme he knew he wanted absolutely nothing to do with. Fully prepared and resolute in making this quite clear to the troublesome twosome, Oliver made to speak. Before he could make more than a gurgle of sound however, Fred and George cut in, both looking equally as aghast as the other.

"You fancy Minnie?!" they asked together in nothing short of appalled disbelief.

It took Oliver a few seconds to understand what they were on about before responding, "Fancy, what? Wait—I didn't say that! I said—" The twins apparently couldn't have cared less what his exact words were. They had already gotten the gist of what he meant.

"Right then," Fred said nodding affirmatively from his twin to Oliver.

"Of course," George carried on swiftly after his brother, the two smirking at their uneasy Quidditch captain who thought their acquiescence came far too easily to be trustworthy as they sounded more as though they were assuring each other of something rather than Oliver of his non-existing scandalous relationship with their Head of House.

"You wish to be starkers in front of Minnie," they concluded as one looking altogether convinced that this was the case.

"Which is admittedly surprising," George started conversationally as though they were chatting about the weather and not some immoral affair with their Transfiguration professor.

"Your voracious appetite for older woman that is," Fred butted in gleefully.

"As we were under the impression that you liked them young," George ended with a wink, and there was no question in Oliver's understanding that they were insinuating about his crush on the third year Gryffindor that had thus far eluded him.

Oliver knew enough to know how futile it would have been to even attempt to talk Fred and George out of their theories. Try though he did to ignore them their tactics in the art of annoyance were flawless. Instead he was forced to listen as the two went on and on about how even though they thought him completely of his rocker—desiring McGonagall like that and all—they would stand by his side and support his relationship through the hard times that were surely on the horizon.

Sometime during their double-act Oliver had come to realize something that quite stirred his curiosity. An observation that not only stayed his wand from casting the bothersome twins from his room but prompted his immediate attention—prying it away from the vivid picture the twins were conjuring of his future life with one Minerva McGonagall.

Oliver was utterly and completely waterlogged. His sleepwear sticking to him in places they had never ventured before nor to where he wished them to ever return again. Now, surely during intense dreams it's understandable that one might sweat a bit. However completely soaking oneself is entirely unprecedented in 17 year olds—and if not them then most assuredly Oliver. He'd never wet the bed before and was positive he hadn't then for no stench was emanating from anywhere on his person that wasn't naturally supposed to be there—yes, he checked.

The cause of his currently saturated being was quite obvious to Oliver, even before the ache in his face had registered. Oliver narrowed his eyes at the oblivious babbling red-heads. His gaze falling swiftly upon his bed sheets as he scanned them and the area nearby for any sign of twin-ly misdeeds. Oliver growled lowly in his throat, impeding the progress of Fred and George's not-so-happily-ever-after tale of _Minnie Wood: Cradle Robber Extraordinaire. _

"What did you two do?" Oliver asked, not so much angry as irritated with everything.

Fred and George grew silent immediately, their expressions once again mirroring the others in open contrition. No more than a few seconds passed before both were speaking as quickly as they could, their voices overlapping one another in a pandemonium of voices all shouting denials of any and all involvement in Oliver's drenched predicament.

The warning bells were on schedule this time as Oliver noted and concluded that defensive Weasley twins were as good as guilty Weasley twins. Oliver of course had tolerated more than enough from the twins and just wanted a straight answer. An answer which would never come for as soon as he made to interrupt and demand answers the twins began a new tirade. As swiftly as Fred and George had begun denying everything they quickly began blaming one another instead. This of course did nothing to placate Oliver.

A whole host of accusations rang through the air, none of them registering with Oliver as he had stopped listening. There was only two ways of dealing with Fred and George when they were like this. However considering he wasn't Professor McGonagall—also that bringing her in for assistance at this point in time would do more damage than was worth it—Oliver assumed his Quidditch captain stance and prepared to order the twins' succinct responses out of them.

Raising his hand to his mouth, Oliver sent a few piercing whistles screeching through the air. The effect was immediate. After the last echoing rings of his whistles had faded away out the open window, the room was at last left blissfully silent. Apart from the heavy panting coming from both Fred and George of course, as they fought to draw breath. They had found little use of air in strengthening their arguments at the time.

"Now," Oliver spoke softly, a little sigh of relief leaving him as he nodded his head approvingly at the now hushed room. "I'm only going to ask this one more time, and I expect—for the sake of your next practice—that I get a straight and _honest_ answer."

Whether Oliver actually believed Fred and George would give him a short yes or no, concise and to the point, answer was unknown. However the far more entertaining, back and forth, commentary that ran from the twins' mouths in waves of unbridled gaiety, should not have been unforeseen.

"Well," George began slowly, "after we finally managed to get in."

"A feat you wouldn't believe could have ever taken place here at Hogwarts," Fred cut in excitedly.

"Much less right outside your own dormitory!" At Oliver's exasperated, get to the point, glare George continued. "We saw you were asleep right?"

"And you were smiling a bit."

"Off and on right."

"Like you were doing something downright nerve wracking."

"So us," George gestured to his twin and himself.

"Being good friends and all," Fred reassured a skeptical looking Oliver.

"And being us, decided we ought not to let you suffer through whatever embarrassing escapade you were frolicking through this time."

"Seeing as you've already been through so much as it is," Fred explained looking concerned for his friend and captain.

"What with the Cupids and all," George carried on.

"And not to mention we wished to know all the details of said frolicking." The twins' hopeful inquiring look was met by yet another captain-y glare from Oliver.

After a few seconds of disappointed silence, during which both mischief-makers contemplated how best to 'Lyla' the details out of their captain, Fred muttered quickly, "Right then, back to incriminating ourselves."

"We _tried_ to wake you. Really, we did."

"But you just weren't having it."

"We tried everything we could think of,"

"Short of jinxing you," Fred scoffed disdainfully, as though the idea of not jinxing his friend had been highly irksome.

"We even jumped on your bed," George continued on, not acknowledging his brother's comment. "But you only knocked us off."

"So technically it was entirely your fault," Fred began reasonably, "we had to conjure a waterfall over your bed."

Oliver processed all the twins had confessed; pondering the remarkable similarities between his dream and what Fred and George had been up to. "Why does my face hurt then?" he asked suddenly, realizing too late what must have happened to his body while he was unconscious. "Or rather," Oliver paused, narrowing his eyes, suspiciously glaring from one twin to the other, "which one of you did it?"

Instinctively, sensing the dangerous ground they were traipsing on, Fred and George raised their hands and, in complete syncopation, pointed their accusatory fingers at their counterpart. Oliver did not look amused by any means.

Sighing in defeat, no longer able to take the heat from his captain's glare, Fred sighed, redirecting his finger towards himself instead. "It was me. I thought perhaps slapping you a few times would have helped."

Though Fred looked remorseful, Oliver saw right through it. Considering he had been the one who wanted to jinx Oliver while he slept, Oliver put no faith in Fred repentance. And besides, if Oliver had counted right, it was not only a few times. If anything, Fred had gotten a bit slap happy with Oliver.

"Obviously not though," George spoke up, regaining Oliver's attention, "since you were still out of it so..."

"What?" Oliver asked slowly, if not a bit accusatory, sensing there was far more than had yet to be divulged. Something big if the twins had left it for last to mention. Oliver sighed, fearing what he might hear next but unable to stop himself from asking, "That's not all you did, is it?" At the twins' identical expressions of guilt, Oliver growled, deciding he'd best know now, "Out with it."

"Well, we were at a loss!" Fred exclaimed as though that was going to justify what Oliver was going to hear next.

"We had already done everything else we could think of."

"Short of jinxing him!"

"Short of jinxing you!" George confirmed, glaring at his now triumphant looking twin. "So we figured if maybe you couldn't—"

"Breathe," Fred cut in once more.

"You'd wake up," George finished calmly with a small unconcerned shrug of his shoulders, as though he didn't just admit that he and his brother tried to suffocate one of their housemates. The twins smiled warily up at their captain, who was himself at a loss for what to say. That hypothesis of theirs was proven positive not only for being a success, but bloody stupid as well.

"And it worked!" Fred nodded matter-of-factly.

Oliver scoffed. They could have killed him in his sleep. They nearly gave him a heart attack when he woke up—amazingly enough surviving their many unprovoked attacks while he was still frolicking freely in dreamland. And now they were celebrating a job well done. No remorse to be found etched anywhere on their features or in their relaxed statures.

Inhaling deeply, Oliver shook his head, astonishingly unsurprised. He shouldn't have expected anything less from them however and, to his greatest irritation, found he couldn't get angry. He just didn't have the vast amount of energy stored in him the way his two Beaters' seemed to inexplicably possess.

No harm, no foul. Oliver moved on to more pressing matters that, for once, had nothing to do with Quidditch. "How'd you two get in? The door was locked..."

"And barricaded," Fred and George added helpfully before beginning to explain the mysteries behind their breaking and entering.

"Forget it," Oliver broke in before they could start. More than likely, he didn't want to know anyway. And though he was mildly curious about the matching blue headbands they were sporting, he refrained from inquiring what there exact purpose was. "What do you lot want?"

"Want?" they asked in confusion.

"Yes, want," Oliver spat impatiently. All he wanted to do was sleep until tomorrow came. The twins seemed adamant on getting in the way of that and he wanted to know why. "You obviously want something, else you wouldn't be here buggering up my morning. So. What. Do. You. Want?"

Instead of answering him, like he'd foolishly expected them to, Fred and George shot a question back at him that had the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention. "Don't you know what day it is?"

Having not expected this particular response, Oliver's eyebrows creased in confusion, before the knowledge of what day it was hit him like a bludger to the head. For the second it took Oliver to take this hit, his eyes widened considerably before quickly snapping shut; his head falling back and an exasperated groan crawling up from his throat. He knew exactly what day it was and had neither the want nor the desire to deal with it. Whatever Fred and George wanted, if it had anything to do with _that_ day, Oliver simply wasn't interested.

"Piss off why don't you?" said Oliver, gesturing for the troublemakers to evacuate his bed. When neither moved more than to get more comfortable Oliver spoke again, deciding to hold over their heads the only thing he could. "You two either move or I'll have you both doing laps around the pitch next practice." They waved off his threat thinking it not one of his best, but Oliver wasn't finished. "Sans broomsticks," he added, instantly satisfied when his Beaters scrambled from his disheveled bed.

Determined to go back to wallowing the day away, Oliver collapsed back on his now Weasley-free bed. Summoning his discarded blanket from wherever he'd tossed it, Oliver proceeded to delve back into the world behind his eyelids, ignoring everything and everyone occupying his dormitory.

Admittedly, if he had thought about it, Oliver would have realized what a horrible mistake that would turn out to be. Seeing as the twins were very persistent, they were nonplussed by their friend's behavior. After all, Oliver's threat only included them leaving his bed, so Fred and George felt they were still free to pester their captain until they got what they wanted.

"Oi, come on," Fred said quite loudly. Loud enough that Oliver had no problems hearing him through the thick layer of blankets now covering his head.

"Up you get," George started, equally as, if not more, loud as his twin.

"You're going to be late for lunch."

"And late for lurve."

"If you don't get up!" Each word of this last exclamation was punctuated by a push or shove to Oliver's person.

"Oi we skipped two of our morning classes today to make sure this all goes flawlessly in your favor," Fred started in irritation, "so you better start showing your appreciation and get up!"

Oliver snorted as he buried his head further under his pillow. He was highly doubtful the twins were actually bothered about missing said classes. Regardless however, Oliver wasn't getting up for them or any one. He doubted he'd even budge an inch if the Minister of Magic himself were ordering him to.

He'd learned his lesson about venturing around the castle on Valentine's Day. Being the stud-ly Quidditch fiend that he was, it came as no surprise that he couldn't walk down the corridors to his classes without being harassed for dates and secret rendezvous with various attractive and not-so-attractive—but persistent—classmates. Oliver didn't mind the attention the ladies of Hogwarts gave him. He usually enjoyed this day immensely.

In fact it was on this very day of his fourth year at Hogwarts that his very own fan-club was founded and lovingly entitled, _The Future Mrs. Oliver Wood's of the Wizarding World._ Oliver even thought they had branches in other wizarding schools by now. Having the accent and physique that he did this was really no shock at all, to him at least.

In all actuality, the day wouldn't have been that bad. If it hadn't been for one Lyla Potter entering his life, causing his world to go entirely topsy-turvy on him. If she hadn't came to Hogwarts Oliver would have surely visited more than a few broom cupboards already with a generous amount of females. With her there however, Oliver just couldn't bring himself to do it.

With all the girls that wanted him, surely he could have gotten over Lyla in a heart beat. It wasn't as though all the females in Hogwarts were hag-like, and with him being him, he'd have no problem snatching up a decent looking bird. But, even though Oliver tried to deny it, he didn't want to get over Lyla. He didn't want any of those air headed biddies fawning over him. He wanted Lyla. Only Lyl-"Aaahh!"

An echoing crash rang through the Seventh year dormitory as Oliver and his four-post bed was sent hurtling from their curious position on the ceiling back down to the stone floor where they should have been stationed at in the first place. The crash-landing did absolutely nothing for Oliver's already fraying nerves. Conversely however, it did the world for the twins' amusement. As well as successfully managing to regain the far off attention of their Quidditch Captain.

Bouncing a few times on his now trembling bed, his arms and legs tangled in his bed covers, sticking out at odd angles here and there, Oliver stared utterly bewildered from ceiling to his currently twisted predicament. It was all too clear to him what had happened. The only problem Oliver was having with the situation was how Fred and George had managed to levitate his bed to the ceiling—with him in it, mind you!—without him noticing.

Once again all the blame immediately fell on Lyla. She was just entirely too distracting to Oliver. He couldn't think straight when she was around...or mentioned...Or heck, even thought of!

"Sorry to tell you this mate, but you couldn't think straight before Lye came into the picture," George spoke up suddenly, rampaging over Oliver's private thoughts like an insulted Hippogriff out for vengeance.

Oliver looked up, suddenly startled by his teammate's harsh, but oddly accurate statement. He was just about to ask the usual questions, just to make sure his friends still weren't secretly _ninja _mind readers out to rule the world one out-of-control-mind at a time, when the other twin spoke up, apparently reading the confusion on Oliver's face and going from there.

"We'd suggest you keep your inner monologues to yourself," Fred started brightly.

"But we'd just be wasting the precious time we have that could be put to use pursuing more entertaining fronts, like-"

"World domination for starters," Fred finished with a grin, as though the idea of enslaving the human race with their superior telepathic abilities greatly appealed to him, which more than likely they did.

It didn't take as long to figure out what must have happened this time. Immediately Oliver's mind was dragged most unwillingly back to his dream self's 'caveman' blunder with Lyla. Oliver cringed at the memory. Lyla was right, he was a moron.

Fred and George shared a look before deciding it was too easy.

It was a good thing the twins had decided that as well, for Oliver was already in a dreadful mood from being put through an unwilling course in emergency crash landing procedures, so agreeing that he was a moron wouldn't have worked so well in their favor.

Though admittedly it would have paled in comparison of importance to Oliver. The twins calling him a moron, he could handle. They had done it before after all. Fred and George being out to slaughter him on the other hand sent Oliver's temper sky-rocketing when he finally got his head back together.

Fortunately Oliver was cut off before he could properly start ranting. "You want Lyla right?"

Swallowing his anger at the mention of Lyla, his very own kryptonite, Oliver answered Fred's obviously rhetorical question in a huff. "Yes, but I thought we already agreed, that's never going to happen."

With a roll of their eyes the twins set forth to reassure Oliver of all he feared. "Forget everything you thought you knew because obviously you know nothing."

Oliver had had enough of being insulted and attacked for one day. Though try as he might to start in on his fellow Quidditch players, they were always two giant leaps ahead of him. "But that's why you have us," Fred continued on cheerfully.

"We know Lyla better than anyone," George stated, positive that this was the case. "So we can actually pull this off."

"Wait," Oliver spat out quickly so as not to get cut off again, "Pull what off exactly?"

Sharing yet another look, this one consisting of something akin to exasperation with a touch of waywardness, Fred made to answer, waving off his friend's worries as if they were a mob of doxies fluttering about his head. "Pft! Details! Details!" he exclaimed.

"Don't you trust us?" George asked sweetly, he and his twins placing their faces into identical grinning masks of innocence.

Oliver decided right then and there that he did not trust Fred or George and especially not the two of them combined. In fact, not even the subject of Lyla had him curious anymore. He just wanted them gone because the longer they stayed the closer he came to giving in and that was the very last thing Oliver wanted that day. To be dragged into some scheme that would surely only lead to his ultimate demise and full scale embarrassment more than likely to be viewed either by the entire occupancy of the student body—staff included—or worse! He'd be forced to face Lyla by himself.

"Oh come off it," George scoffed in disgust, kicking a Quaffle out of his way as he and his twin continued their search.

"I got his shirt and tie over here!" Fred shouted from inside Oliver's trunk, his feet sticking up in the air as he struggled to free himself from the bottomless pit that was Oliver's school trunk.

George rolled his eyes before waving his wand and saving his twin from a fate that was apparently worse than death from what Fred from screaming at least. "His shoes are over there as well, along with his trousers," George replied pointing at the disheveled mass of clothing lounging victoriously upon his brother. "Now if we could only find that girdle he's been neglecting to wear lately, to keep his spine from running off on him, he'll be all set."

Fred emerged gasping from the murderous mountain of Oliver's belongings. "Ruddy coward!" he coughed, "She's just a girl." Oliver groaned, smacking his head against his headboard a couple times. She wasn't just a girl. She was Lyla. And that made her infinitely more terrifying.

"Believe us mate, she's more frightening than you can possibly imagine," George spoke up, once again dragging Oliver out of his not-so-private-thoughts.

"But you wont ever have to see that," Fred reassured his ill looking friend, "If you follow our advice that is."

Oliver surveyed his friends. George was still looking for his M.I.A./nonexistent girdle and growing more and more irritated by each article of clothing that wasn't his intended. Whereas Fred had more or less beaten the mass hysteria of Oliver's wardrobe and was now sitting triumphantly upon them.

To Oliver they looked like a fairly unstable lot. George was on the verge of interrogating the next belt he found into giving him the location of the girdle and Fred was beginning his victory performance upon the vanquished foes, complete with the off-key belting of 'We Are The Champions,' absolutely oblivious to the fact that one of his enemies were mocking him from atop his head.

Oliver shook his head with a laugh and, knowing he would regret it in the long run, asked, "Why exactly, should I trust you two?"

Fred and George simultaneously stopped moving at Oliver's inquiry, leaving the two in very comical positions. George had one of Oliver's roommates' belts by the buckle and was threatening to strangle it while Fred looked to have been in the last stage of the Macarena.

As though having practiced this move exhaustively, Fred and George turned as one—from polar opposite sides of the room—to look at their Quidditch captain, two massive and matching grins steadily meandering across their faces. "Don't worry. We have a plan."

Lyla didn't think she could get any more irritated if she were the mastermind behind it all. As though the day being what it was wasn't bad enough, Lyla had been forced most unwillingly out of her warm and cozy bed and mercilessly shoved into a cold shower, then ruthlessly dragged to a class she didn't particularly enjoy, with a House whose female population had more air in their heads than their lungs.

It disgusted her the way girls all over the school were flaunting themselves to all the males within their immediate and not-so-immediate vicinity. It nearly made the bad tempered 3rd year gag—both literally and metaphorically—to witness such behavior.

Once or twice, Lyla had to dodge a gaggle of hair that whipped by her face at such high-speeds it had the potential to decapitate and/or asphyxiate a poor innocent bystander. Fairly more often than dodging or barrel rolling out of the way and into random persons and or inanimate objects however, Lyla nearly hexed the girl or girls responsible for her near fatal injuries.

Scowling, Lyla narrowed her eyes at a group of Hufflepuffs in her year as they lobbed flirtatious glances this way and that, seeming not to care exactly who caught them as long as someone did and inevitably took an interest. Lyla scoffed loudly gaining unwanted attention from those nearby. As though batting your overly mascara-ed eyes and giggling shrilly, and not to mention incessantly, was going to catch them anything but a nasty curse from Lyla's carefully aimed wand.

A stinging slap, successfully smacking her hand away from her wand, was all Lyla needed to know that Rylie was keeping a close eye on her and that her aspirations for that day were not, by any means, approved of. Lyla pouted as her friend shook her head, warning Lyla not to do what she so desperately yearned to.

Rylie cast one last look at her friend, making absolutely certain she heeded her silent admonition, before moving through the maze of desks to their seats in the far back of the classroom. Lyla sighed disappointedly, gazing dejectedly from her wand to her still screeching targets multiple times before reluctantly following her friend.

It was nearly painful—particularly to Lyla's ever-twitching eye—not doing or saying anything to the shrieking teens surrounding her but Lyla managed without any unpleasant incidents occurring. Though she did glower fiercely at all her male classmates so they received the message loud and clear that she was not, nor would she ever be, interested in anything any of them had to offer.

Lyla dropped heavily into her designated seat beside Rylie and impatiently waited for the torture to commence. Rylie had already taken out her books—which she had already flipped opened to the last charm the class had been working on—quill and ink laid out before her along with a spare bit of parchment, ready to absorb the knowledge that was about to be thrown at them in never-ending waves of mind-numbing boredom.

Letting out yet another sigh of discontent, Lyla let her head hit the desk in front of her. A few seconds passed before she did it again, only to continuously repeat the process of smacking her head against her desktop, none too gently either. Around the fourth, going on the fifth whack, Rylie decided to play interference. Without glancing from the words in her textbook, Rylie slid her school robes—which were really only used for outside classes anyway—over to cushion the next impact.

Lyla gave a huff that was surprisingly still audible through the fabric that had just bravely and effortlessly rescued her face from future bruising via desktop. She shifted to laze into a less dramatic position; slouching over her desk, her chin resting on her propped up hand, Lyla pushed her friend's robes back towards her, a supposedly gracious 'thanks' being implied though it went unsaid by the disgruntled 3rd year.

"Don't worry Lye; it'll all be over soon." Rylie stated brightly, looking over her essay that was due that period, "Then you can go back to trying not to murder anyone today."

Though thinking that an odd way of phrasing it, before Lyla could open her mouth and retort that she never quite stopped resisting that particular urge—case in point those giggling Hufflepuffs still retaining their voice boxes—Professor Flitwick ambled up his perch and began the torment.

"I have a very special lesson planned for you all in honor of this most lovely of days," Flitwick began in his squeaky voice.

Immediately upon explaining the lesson plan to the class a sense of dread crawled up Lyla's throat from somewhere deep inside her, causing a sort of strangled cry to burst from her. Fortunately no one noticed for the rest of the class was already making more than enough excited chatter to cover up her cry of anguish at what was to come.

Lyla thought her nightmare would never end. Every other second her head would snap towards the clock so fast Rylie feared whiplash repercussions would be inevitable. "Lyla! Chill already," Rylie hissed lowly.

"I can't help it! If he goes into one more speech about love and kissy faces I swear I'll go berserk." Lyla spat back, looking as though she were already an inch from being off her rocker as it was.

Rylie however, decided it best to not mention this fact to her nearly unhinged friend. "It's not that bad," she tried reasoning, though said argument fell short before Lyla's beyond not amused expression of skepticism. "Just calm down, we're about to start the practical."

Lyla groaned at this as her friend tried to subtly move into Ronald's line of vision so he'd ask her to partner with him. She had a fairly high chance of getting what she wanted too since Hermione and Ron were currently still at war with one another.

Unfortunately for Rylie, Ron was too much of a thickhead to notice her fruitless attempts at catching his eye and snatched up Lavender Brown mere seconds after the order to 'pair up' had been given. The ruddy sod had barely given any thought to anyone else so long as Hermione saw he didn't want to be with her.

Rylie wasn't the only one hurt by Ron's insensitivity. Hermione looked downright trodden on as Harry moved to inhabit the space across from her. The rest of the class slowly split into pairs, boy/girl as Flitwick had demanded in his obvious-to-fail attempt at matchmaking. Rylie got paired with Neville while Lyla—her fortunes still pouring muck down upon her—was stuck with Jeremiah Ipshtick: self-proclaimed ladies man.

Now Lyla barely knew any others in her year outside her own house. She kept mostly to her own devices and ingenious schemes that for the most part took up a great deal of her time. But Ipshtick...well _everyone_ knew him—regardless of being otherwise preoccupied or oblivious—and for the most part knew enough to stay far away.

It wasn't just his abrasive personality that turned people off, but his attitude towards the female students and staff of Hogwarts. He was tall for his age, with a lean build, and blonde hair and Lyla supposed he might have been marginally attractive if he wasn't the epitome of everything she disliked in a guy.

Lyla pinched the brim of her nose, her eyes shut tightly as Ipshtick took his seat. She could not believe she was being forced into this farce. She knew Flitwick was a hardcore advocate for romance, as Rylie had time and time again warned, but this...this was just entirely cracked is what it was. Not to mention a total waste of her time.

She did not sign up for this and no one, least of all Flitwick, could have expected her to possess the patience to put up with very much more of Ipshtich's pursuit of her. "Seriously though babe, may I call you babe?" before waiting for yet another version of Lyla's—more than was to be expected—polite response of, 'I'd rather you didn't,' Ipshtick just carried on his one-sided conversation without any of Lyla's input.

Lyla rolled her eyes, looking away from her Hufflepuff partner, who was still desperately trying with all his might to woo her. She reluctantly found herself smiling behind the hand that had just wiped its way down her thoroughly annoyed face as her gaze swept over to Rylie's table. She and Neville seemed to be getting along smashingly. They were actually on the verge of giving Lyla a toothache if they got any sweeter.

In Lyla's sincerest opinion, Rylie desperately needed to get over Ronald. And she thought Neville a good candidate to help with this; the two of them were just too cute together. "Do you need to go see Madam Pomfrey?" Lyla shook herself out of her matchmaking schemes and back into the tragic reality awaiting her return.

Confusion seeped into her features as she shot a quizzical look at her partner. Seeing her confusion he repeated his inquiry, but Lyla still had no clue why he would think she required Pomfrey's assistance. "Why would I need t—?"

"Because it must have hurt when you fell from heaven," Ipshtick cut Lyla off with a suggestive smirk.

Lyla blinked slowly, letting his words fully sink in before speaking. "That has got to be _the_ stupidest—"

"Wait!" he shouted, interrupting Lyla once again. "I got another one!"

"And I'm about to be proven wrong," Lyla muttered sourly under her breath, not at all pleased with being interrupted at every turn as much as hit on for the past half hour by an un-charming Hufflepuff, who considered himself way more fascinating than was to be considered healthy.

"Are your legs tired?"

Gritting her teeth, Lyla fought to control her temper. "My legs," she started out slowly, "have been quite stationary thanks, so no," Lyla moved on quickly, cutting Ipshtick off before he could speak, "they haven't been running through your anything at any time at all, understand?"

Apparently not, for he just sat there staring at Lyla, dumbfounded, as though his face had literally gotten stuck on stupid. "We are so perfect for each other," he stated finally, gazing adoringly at Lyla, as she in turn resumed her previous pursuit of trying to knock herself unconscious, wondering how much more of his unrelenting torture she could take before she finally broke and did something McGonagall would surely blow a gasket at.

Feeling Rylie's admonishing gaze upon her, Lyla resisted the urge to further incapacitate herself. Sighing miserably Lyla proceeded to ignore Ipshtick as he continued in his endeavor to "gain entry" to her heart.

Her eyes idly wandered around the excited class, passing over prepubescent boys trying to charm their specific bird, glaring purposefully passed squealing girls shrieking their desperate approvals, entirely bypassing the slowly opening door of the classroom till her murderous gaze fell upon her jovial Professor.

She wasn't about to just sit there as Ipshtick spouted on about their future life plans together. Anyway she figured her time was better spent silently glaring at Flitwick trying to let him know precisely how much she disapproved of his "very special" lesson. It seemed far more entertaining to her at least.

Unfortunately before Lyla could commence with her plans, something suddenly occurred to her. Something that had sparked her curiosity and spurred her to give up all attempts to set her Professor ablaze with her thoughts.

As far as she could tell, the whole class was present, or at least they had been when attendance had been called, so unless Flitwick had something particularly nasty planned for them, they weren't expecting anyone. Therefore the classroom door shouldn't have been inching open as though someone was trying to surprise—or worse—get a jump on someone.

Immediately, Lyla's senses were on high alert. Fearing the worst was out to get her in Cupid form, Lyla snapped her attention back to the now suspiciously stationary door. But as luck would have it, Ronald and Lavender Brown—who Lyla thought couldn't look more wrong together if they tried—were acting outlandishly affectionate right in the way of her view!

There was no time to waste. Instead of making them move like she would have gleefully enjoyed, Lyla shuffled her seat to the side, shifting slightly forward till she could clearly see pass them, incidentally in doing so moving unknowingly closer to her future stalker.

Her attention was on the door for barely a second before horror overcame her, "Would you like me to sing for you?" Lyla whirled around, thinking that in her moments of distracted glaring the quartet had managed to sneak in. Thankfully though there were no miniature grown men in diapers behind her or any trace that there had been. There was only Ipshtick.

Lyla did not find this realization comforting. "I'm told I have a lovely voice; reminiscent of angels even!" Quite the opposite really, for she was entirely indecisive about—due in huge part to the fact that she had absolutely no desire to find out—which was worse, Ipshtick or the Cupids.

"You think she saw us?" asked a hushed voice from its not so stealthy hiding place. To all those who cared to look the corridor may have seemed deserted but for the pairs of feet still visible beneath a suspiciously voluminous window curtain.

"Shh! Be quiet or we'll get caught!" hissed an equally as anxious voice from behind the other side of the same hangings.

"Don't you shush me, Georgie! If it weren't for you we'd already be in and out of there undetected rather than hiding behind curtains, waiting for Lye to find then wound us, both bodily and mentally."

'Georgie' poked his head out from behind his side of the drapes, glaring daggers at where he knew his twin was scowling back at him. "Oh, it's _my_ fault now, is it?! Who was the one being all impatient, hmm? Who tried to be all secret agent-y and barrel roll into a place we weren't supposed to be seen entering, huh, Freddie? Who was that again?"

The left side of the curtains swayed slightly with the indignant huff 'Freddie' had just let slip. He cautiously peeked out from his hiding place, looking altogether defeated. Pouting fully, not caring or bothering to hide it he asked, "So what now?"

George was silent for a bit as he assessed their predicament. Slowly and cautiously, he slipped from his place of 'concealment' before quickly dropping to the floor—his brother overdramatically mirroring his actions behind him. The twins began army crawling their way across the corridor, fully aware that one could never be too careful when Lyla was around; especially when she had specifically forbade them against any mischief done towards her person on pain of Lyla-like payback.

Though they reasoned that their actions were in her best interest, hoping she would thank them later in a more pleasant than violent manner, they ploughed treacherously onwards. "Well it doesn't seem like Lyla's noticed anything odd is going on." George paused, making sure to stay quite still with his ear pressed against the door.

He let out a sigh of relief and turned to his twin. "Only problem we have now, is how to get this," George held up the note in his hand, "there," he pointed in the general direction their destination had been, "without her—"

"Catching and brutally maiming us for any and entirely all of our involvement?"

George gulped, his voice sounding strained when he replied, "In a manner of speaking, mm-hmm." A moment or two passed as each brother pondered the horrible implications of exactly what it meant if they were caught. Shivers ran down their respective spines as they glanced nervously at the quite stationary door, paranoid that at any moment their lives would flash before their eyes as a raging Lyla descended upon them.

"Alright," George started firmly, "It's now or never...which isn't really an option anyway—so it's decidedly now." He raised himself into a crouched position, readying himself for the dangerous task ahead of them. One hand was on the handle of the door, the other holding the precious note. He was ready and raring to go when he paused, looking altogether bewildered.

Fred, who had up till they'd reached the door, yet to move from his mid-army crawl position. Seeing his brother's halted form, and confused expression, he smirked widely. "Bet that secret agent idea is looking pretty good right about now, in't?"

George's frame stiffened at his twin's words. He turned to glare in annoyance but sighed instead. Lyla's class would be over soon, so they had little time to argue. "Just don't get caught," before Fred could spit out his resentment to his brother's request, George carried on, "Lyla's smart alright, and not just your run-of-the-mill book smart like Hermione. Lyla's on a whole other evil genius level so she's going to figure out that where there's one of us, the other can't be too far off. Now I don't know about you but I don't fancy being turned back into a bird and stuck in a dress on V-Day of all days!"

Fred shrugged not at all concerned with the potential repercussions of Lyla's wrath. "It wasn't so bad..." he trailed off in thought, "The breeze was nice."

Though George entirely agreed with his brother, stating this would have only further delayed their mission. Inching the door open the twins made their move silent and unseen into the classroom. They had little time to spare. Not only because of the end of the class period drawing ever closer, but because of their target herself.

One look at her nearly caused the two Weasley's to withdraw. They didn't want to get caught before, knowing they'd be dealing with Lyla, but knowing they'd possibly have to confront an incredibly brassed off one had the hairs on the back of their necks pulling them in the opposite direction.

Sheer determination was all that kept the two tricksters motivated. With no time to lose the twins sprang into action, stealthily maneuvering themselves into the about ready to explode classroom like a pair of professional ninjas skulking in the shadows ready to fulfill their mission.

Or at least that was how _they_ perceived themselves to be. To Rylie however—who had been keeping a keen eye on Lyla's temperament—the two looked like a pair of conspicuous looking Weasley shaped clowns donning vivid blue head bands, blundering through the chaos that was about to bubble out of control from Lyla's general vicinity.

Rylie watched with intrigue as Fred and George scuttled across the Charms room floor. Systematically barrel-rolling passed chairs and diving between tables, till they were _safely_ behind Lyla. Now Rylie didn't know exactly what the Weasleys were up to, and she didn't rightly care so long as they didn't get caught up in Lyla's wrath again—Rylie still felt awful for them from their last mix up with her best friend after all.

Unfortunately, whatever the scheme, it was certain to be disastrous. The events that unfolded next were, to Rylie at least, like watching high speed demolition derby. Who in their right mind could look away?

George slowly leaned forward onto his hands and knees. One eye was cautiously watching Lyla's every move, while the other made quite certain the note in his right hand landed where he'd planned the first time, for it was quite obvious this was a one time opportunity.

George sighed as he turned to face his twin—who was supposed to be playing lookout but was clearly more interested in watching his brother's potential end. At Fred's inquiring gaze George felt a newfound sense of enthusiasm wash over him. They had done it. But what's more! They hadn't been caught!!

"You want to run that by me again?!" In retrospect, George supposed the more intelligent person would have waited till they were a safe distance away from the scene before thinking such thoughts.

Despite the two of them being literally two feet apart, they didn't want to risk Lyla hearing their unnecessary whispers. Therefore when the previous annoyed inquiry was growled, George had been in the process of shooting Fred an over-excited, and more importantly silent, thumbs-up—when a familiar and obviously pissed off voice cut short their future happy dance routine.

The twins shared a predictably identical expression of sheer terror before Fred—suddenly transposed with his brother's earlier demeanor—seriously, an edge of urgency to be noted in his tone mind you, asked, "Retreat?"

George had seemingly gone all to pieces in the time it took his brother to ask this, nodding his head frantically as he replied, "Retreat!" The twosome didn't bother with theatrics this time around. Didn't bother trying to stay unseen either, for the commotion Lyla was making was drawing away all curious eyes that may have taken an interest in them in the opposite direction.

The only goal in the twins panicked minds; the only concern running rampant through their veins was saving their own arses. Luckily for them, they were successful once again in their endeavors—though they did get bashed up a bit from getting sent _through_ the Charms room door, carried along by the force of the explosion that had just gone off, shaking the castle itself it seemed.

Screams echoed down the trembling corridor, issuing from the now smoking class the twins had just vacated. Fred and George, sprawled across the hall floor, covered from head to foot in debris and soot could not seem to wipe the triumphant grins from the grimy faces.

"That went well," Fred stated suddenly, before he and his brother collapsed yet again in a fit of bellowing hysterics.


	27. Chapter 27

- Chapter 27 -

[V-Day: Afternoon of Misinterpretations]

Lyla sat calmly in her seat, silently gazing about the cluttered circular office of her Headmaster's. Standing across from her—looking as cross and disapproving as ever—was her Head of House, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School, and Transfiguration Professor: Minerva McGonagall. And though Lyla certainly should have, she was not bothering to look remorseful, for she was in no way anywhere near that emotion.

McGonagall's stance alone would have sent a lesser third year scrambling for cover. However, seeing as Lyla wasn't a typical third year—partially due to her being a Gryffindor—she remained impervious to every one of her Professor's furious shrieks and thoroughly disappointed glares. She couldn't have done anything _that_ serious for Dumbledore seemed to find the whole scenario highly amusing after all, though he was trying his hardest to mask this fact.

Therefore it shouldn't have come as much of a shock that Lyla was not concerned in the least. Nor was she the slightest bit repentant. She was in fact, quite thrilled with herself and her accomplishments.

That's not to say that Lyla didn't feel marginally sorry—not for what she'd done of course—but for McGonagall. Her Head of House showed no signs of tiring in her tirade and Lyla doubted her Professor had any desire to do so either. At least not until she had drilled into Lyla precisely how serious and ill-humored her actions were, regardless of what their dear Headmaster may have thought otherwise.

Unfortunately, McGonagall just didn't seem to grasp that Lyla couldn't care less what anyone else thought. Whether blowing up her entire Charms classroom had literally made his day like Dumbledore, or actually disappointed and—far more notably—outraged McGonagall.

How could they have expected her to _not_ do anything anyway? Dealing with those giggling ninnies and Ipshtick alone had Lyla all but twitching for her wand, but add their 'etiquette' lesson plan in and well...it was really no wonder at all why she had acted so…brashly. Considering her extenuating circumstances there was no way Minnie could possibly hold her responsible...let alone punish her for her actions.

If anything McGonagall and Dumbledore had to at least give her some credit for holding out as long as she had. A personal best is what it was! Lyla glanced up on the off chance that her Head of House had reached this same conclusion she had so ingeniously come to.

"To think that a student from my own House would commit such a heinous act! It's disgusting!" McGonagall nearly shrieked in frustration with the whole situation. She had moved on to the pacing portion of her lecture...a sure sign that Lyla was in deep trouble.

Being aware of this however didn't alter anything. Lyla could still hardly be arsed to care. In her mind he had it coming—Ipshtick that is. Admittedly the rest of the class was an unfortunate casualty. Lyla still wasn't sorry though, or ashamed of her actions and nothing McGonagall would say was ever going to change that or make her express said non-existent remorse.

"Ruining a new and innovated lesson for the rest of your class—" Basically, McGonagall wasn't going to stop Lyla from acting like Lyla.

"I hardly think Bad Pick-up Lines 101 qualifies as an _innovated_ lesson," Lyla scoffed without thinking as she rolled her eyes to the dome ceiling of the office, before moving on to gaze at the 'sleeping' portraits lining the walls.

Silence met Lyla's inattentive ears, dragging her eyes away from the suspiciously motionless pictures—their once curiously blank faces stricken by a similar cringe—and back towards her two professors. Dumbledore was no longer smirking. Instead, he was fidgeting nervously in his seat, shuffling papers around in an attempt to appear busy as he surreptitiously glanced at his, about ready to explode, Deputy Headmistress.

Lyla groaned silently. She had been dreading this moment ever since she'd entered the office. She had dodged around the moment so far. But there was no way out of it now that she'd spoken and implemented herself directly into the hot seat. The time had finally come for Lyla to explain herself.

Lyla winced from the glower she could all but feel piercing through her shut eyelids. She had been avoiding making any kind of sound for the past half hour since she'd been dragged there. For all those thoughts that had been incessantly tap dancing all over her irritated mind would now be unleashed. Which would then unfortunately greatly diminish any chance Lyla had of getting out of Dumbledore's office unscathed.

Sadly however, there was no avoiding McGonagall's true wrath now that she let that black hole of self-destruction, she liked to call her mouth, run rampant. Lyla took a deep breath to ready herself for the inevitable and let it out slowly before finally making eye contact with McGonagall.

Her Head of House's outraged eyes were glaring into hers the moment Lyla looked up, silently asking the expected question of whether that was all she had to say for herself. Now professor or not, Lyla was not about to back down, nor was she going to let on that McGonagall did indeed scare her then.

Lyla did not respond. She simply stared back—as calmly as she could under McGonagall's penetrating stare—daring her Professor to keep her out of class even longer than she already had.

To Lyla, she had all the time in the world to waste. It didn't bother her any to be kept away from the hormonally imbalanced teens swarming the corridors. And it wasn't as though she wasn't used to sitting through lectures. Remus was all but famous for them after all.

Dumbledore thought it best to sit quietly and let his Deputy Headmistress handle the young spirited Gryffindor. He was most distressed to hear of what had happened, but chose not to judge the girl until he knew all the facts for he knew well enough to know that there had to have been a reason behind her actions. Unfortunately, it did not appear as though he would be getting any answers.

Dumbledore glanced up in mild alarm as his office grew silent. He had learned by then that Lyla plus silence never meant anything pleasant. Amusing? Entirely. But pleasant? Well, that all depended on whether you were the unfortunate one to have angered the third year.

One glance between the two fierce witches told Dumbledore he wanted absolutely nothing to do with what he had just tuned in on. A severe staring contest seemed to be taking place in his office and he appeared to be trapped in the middle of it! Quite literally mind you, for there was very little space to escape in his cluttered office.

Minerva glared reproachfully at her student while young Miss Potter merely returned her look with cool indifference. Every once and a while an eyebrow would twitch upwards on their respective faces, challenging the other to react in some way. Neither one's pride would let them take the bait however.

Even though the last thing he wanted was to get involved in their battle of wills, Dumbledore was not particularly keen on a reenactment of the events which had brought Miss Potter to his office in the first place. Really, his office was a mess on its own...no need to add Lyla to the mix.

Unnoticed by the others, Dumbledore rose to his feet, bracing himself for the interference he was about to play. Taking a deep and steadying breath, he reached up and placed what he hoped was a calming hand on McGonagall's shoulder. Feeling her tense like a cat ready to pounce almost made him forget the whole thing and let Lyla blow up his office if it put an end to all the conflict.

Lyla watched in silent amusement as Dumbledore hesitantly interrupted the glaring contest between her and Professor McGonagall only to be—most unwillingly it appeared—dragged into yet another war of facial expressions that went on for several minutes. Lyla was quite perplexed as to who she thought would win and was glad the twins were not there to place bets with her.

In the end—after Lyla had decided McGonagall, in all her infinite fury, would win—Dumbledore had come out triumphant and more or less unharmed. Lyla braced herself as McGonagall turned to face her—looking, if possible, more disgruntled than before. She took a few calming breaths, her expression just about screaming that the last thing she wanted to do was whatever Dumbledore had convinced her to.

Lyla didn't have to question why and personally couldn't blame McGonagall one bit. "Alright," McGonagall breathed out slowly, her calming breaths coming out shaky and uneven from restraining herself. "I can see we're getting nowhere with you so _I'm_ prepared to make you a deal."

This was certainly intriguing. Lyla for one could not believe her ears. She had been positive she wouldn't be leaving that office without at least a month's worth of detentions. Yet there McGonagall was, prepared to throw Lyla a get out of jail free card.

Considering the charges against her, only a fool would turn down this offer. Though Lyla was no pillock by any means, didn't mean she'd just take the deal without knowing all the stipulations. At her raised eyebrow, McGonagall set the deal out plainly for Lyla, wanting no misconceptions on either part.

"We are prepared to forget everything that happened this morning on the condition that you fully cooperate with us." Lyla tried not to outwardly show her surprise as she sat back in her chair contemplating precisely what harm it would do to oblige their request.

On the one hand, she would have gotten away with what she had done. The downside to that being that she took the easy way out. What would the twins say if they knew? Surely, they'd be disappointed. Though there _was_ a tiny chance that they would be amazed with her ability to evade punishment either way.

Her deliberations were apparently taking far too long for McGonagall's patience. "Well?" her Professor asked shrilly in paramount disbelief, vaguely reminding Lyla of her shrieking classmates ambling spastically about the corridors.

Lyla was just beginning to fully—both mentally as well as physically—weigh out the pros vs. cons of giving in when McGonagall's fuse finally sputtered down to its explosive end. "Oh for Merlin's sake, Miss Potter." she snapped, "Just tell us how to get the boy down!"

Having had no desire to put an end to Ipshtick's suffering that quickly, Lyla was entirely prepared to draw out her decision as long as possible. Yet hearing McGonagall nearly pleading with her, seeing the look of desperation on her otherwise strict features, had struck something deep inside Lyla and ultimately made her mind up for her.

Heaving a deep sigh of indignation, Lyla grumbled out her response. "You can get him down now. It'll work this time." Her reply was greeted by silence once again and, curious as to what she had done this time; Lyla glanced up at the confused faces of her Professors. "Can I go now?" she blurted out stupidly, seeing no reason to stay now that she had 'cooperated'.

"You're not going to tell us what you did?" McGonagall inquired, looking thoroughly perplexed. They had tried everything they could possibly think of to get the Hufflepuff down from the ceiling of the Charms classroom but to no avail. Flitwick had thought Lyla used a Permanent Sticking Charm on the boy in which case, both Dumbledore and herself would have had no choice but to expel Lyla.

Dumbledore himself couldn't seem to figure out what the girl had done! And now, with a few muttered—most likely _colorful_—words, Miss Potter claimed they could get the boy down. Well McGonagall for one would be damned if she allowed Lyla to leave without further explaining herself.

At first Lyla had thought her Head of House was joking with her. Upon realizing that she was serious however, Lyla wanted to laugh in her face. That would have landed her in detention for sure so she settled for responding in a much more respectable manner.

"That wasn't part of the deal, now was it?" she asked calmly, if not a bit condescending.

McGonagall clearly wanted to argue with her Third year, that much was plain to see. Dumbledore cut in quickly before she had the chance, wanting to put an end to what would probably be another explosive confrontation, "I see no reason to further detain Miss Potter from her..._new and innovated_ classes."

Lyla was unable to control her facial expressions any longer. She felt her eyes widen significantly and quickly lowered her head to hide her smirk as McGonagall whirled around to glare at her gleeful superior.

Dumbledore's words—though humorous—were like pouring fuel on the fire that was already burning out of control within her Transfiguration Professor. And though Lyla would have loved to see the two of them duke it out—now that her arse was off the line and all—her survival instinct had fortunately kicked into gear.

Quickly grabbing her things from the floor, Lyla booked it out of her chair as fast as she could; her two professors too caught up in arguing about the unexplained holes in the Charms room door that needed repairing to notice her retreat.

"Just breathe, Oliver. That's the key." After fighting, both tooth and nail, with Fred and George for most of the morning over getting up, let alone venturing down into the castle, Oliver unwillingly managed to finish getting ready for the day ahead and all the unknown horrors that surely—knowing the twins—lay unexpectedly in wait for him.

Virtually clueless as to what was going to happen that day, Oliver uneasily wandered down the many moving staircases. The twins hadn't really clued him in on anything they had been planning. He was in fact being kept strategically in the dark about it all so he couldn't arse-up any of their plans or so they had cheerfully told him showing Oliver just how much faith they had in him.

Though Oliver did argue that the more he knew, the less likely he'd be to knowingly screw things up; the twins would not hear it. They simply told Oliver not to worry about a thing for they were taking care of it. Though they had intended to be reassuring, their boisterous declarations did nothing to settle Oliver's worries. If anything, they added to them.

He was utterly petrified of the thought of seeing Lyla again so soon after his latest debacle, but now that he knew the twins were up to something Oliver could not just sit idly by and do nothing! And even though the thought terrified him, he knew he had to talk to Lyla.

Despite being all surly and tough on the Quidditch pitch, Oliver felt he might faint at the prospect. She was worth it however. Or at least he had convinced himself that she was so he decided to wrap a belt around himself—foregoing the girdle for it instead—to keep his back bone from fleeing at inopportune moments so he could at least make an attempt.

He had it all planned out too! Oliver resumed his pacing in front of the Grand Staircase as he mentally fine tuned his plans. Wanting a great deal to prove the twins wrong that day and show that he could in fact do something right where Lyla was concerned.

Lyla was at that point in time, outside the castle in the greenhouses—number three to be exact!—for her Herbology class. Now no matter what the twins were insistent of, Oliver did not think it the slightest bit creepy or stalker-ish that he knew Lyla's schedule rather well.

Oliver had neglected to tell the twins, and for good reason as well, that he had in fact memorized it earlier that year! They'd surely never let him hear the end of that one if he had.

At any moment—forty-five minutes precisely—Lyla would be getting out of class. Approximately five minutes after that she would be entering through the front doors of the castle where Oliver would be _casually_ waiting to speak with her.

By then he had planned to stop his incessant pacing, for the last thing he wanted was for Lyla to witness him walking into that banister for what would probably be the fifth time in a row. Oliver glared at the banister in question—daring it to get in his way again—as he ambled away from it, rubbing his surely to be bruised abdomen as he went.

Now regardless of whom Lyla was surrounded by, no matter who might have held her attention at that particular moment, Oliver would not turn tail and flee. Considering Fred and George were still obstinately up to something, Oliver really had no choice. By whatever means necessary, he was bound and determined to get Lyla's attention.

Oliver smirked pompously. He could already see it playing out in his favor. He'd walk up to Lyla—without mortally wounding or incapacitating himself along the way hopefully—his head held high, exuding an overall air of confidence; no doubt drawing her wandering eyes his way as he boldly sauntered over.

Her eyes, which would obviously find no other interest in the room than him, would glisten in anticipation for whatever he was about to say. Oliver practiced his charming smile as he paced, imagining Lyla sigh in an entirely smitten way as he opened his mouth and…Oliver stopped pacing looking entirely befuddled…and well, asked for the time?

"Gah!" Oliver exhaled sharply as he, in a moment of appalled mortification, jerked spastically sideways wishing to flee the fool he had just mentally proven he was. Unfortunately, as was nearly always the case, Oliver didn't make it very far. In his haste to speed away from his thoughts Oliver momentarily forgot where he was and consequently tumbled over the staircase's banister to the stone floor below.

Oliver groaned, equally as much in pain as shame, as he lifted himself carefully from the cold floor. He truly was pathetic. He couldn't even contemplate having a conversation with his beloved third year in his head without embarrassing himself.

Oliver figured it was far past time he faced the facts. Slumping forward on the staircase, his head buried deep within his palms, he sighed miserably into his hands. He was doomed. No matter how he looked at it.

So caught up in his despondent thoughts of imminent failure was Oliver that he failed to take notice of his surroundings once more. He didn't catch the subtle changes to the quiet stillness of the castle. He was far too busy wallowing in self-pity to pay any mind to the hurried footsteps echoing through the halls.

The stampeding steps echoed through the castle corridors growing louder with every footfall. It was only when the strides were halfway down the corridor that led to the entrance hall Oliver had been patrolling that his attention was brought jerkily back to the present.

Oliver started frantically in surprise as the once faraway noise registered within his racing mind. To him there was only one possibility as to who might appear at the top of the steps. He was never one for breaking the rules—he left that solely for his Beaters' enjoyment—so naturally Oliver panicked. His guilty psyche assuming a Professor was raging through the halls of Hogwarts on a mission to teach him a lesson he wouldn't soon be forgetting.

He had skipped his first few morning classes and was currently supposed to be in Defense Against the Dark Arts that period. Now considering Oliver was predominantly petrified of Professor Lupin because the sickly Professor seemed to loathe Oliver—for some _unfathomable_ reason—his next course of action shouldn't have come as a surprise.

Without any more thought on who could have been approaching, Oliver once more—purposely this time—leapt over the railing of the staircase that had been out to get him that morning to land harshly against the stone floor of the castle. Oliver carefully muffled his shout of pain with his hand as his face broke his fall not wishing to draw attention to his position with his cry of anguish.

Now any Gryffindor in Hogwarts would freely admit that their curiosity was their biggest fault. Oliver was no different in this case. So despite assuming he knew who was racing towards him, instead of staying hidden as would have been the more logical course of action, Oliver couldn't deny the urge to verify this theory with his own eyes.

Clamping his hand tightly over his slightly bleeding, most likely broken, nose, Oliver quietly poked his head around the banister that he had just hurdled over. He was entirely unprepared for who appeared at the top of the staircase. Quickly going over the schedule deeply imbedded in his mind once again Oliver was quite certain Lyla should not have been racing around Hogwarts at that moment. Though why he was still continually surprised by the unpredictable Potter was beyond him.

Oliver shook his head. Lyla appearing at that moment was most fortunate for Oliver. The Entrance Hall was deserted but for the two of them. Meaning no gossiping eyes to witness his destined to fail attempt; the realization came down as a big wave of relief on Oliver.

The older Gryffindor hastily stumbled to his feet, fearing he had little time to waste as Lyla still appeared to be rushing away from something. Stepping out before the staircase, Oliver quickly plastered as charming a grin as his nerves would allow on his blood-stained face. He turned then, his palms perspiring in anticipation of the confrontation the only visible sign of his uneasy nerves.

"Hey Ly—" Oliver managed to greet his fellow Gryffindor—his words getting caught slightly in his throat—as she reached the bottom of the staircase where he stood, anxiously waiting for her to slow her steps.

She didn't. And Oliver felt his self-confidence deflate all over again as Lyla raced past him, not stopping to even acknowledge his greeting.

Or even at least give him the chance to say something expectedly unintelligible. Oliver cringed, watching her flee from him as fast as she could just brought up painful memories he would much rather repress. Sighing in defeat yet again, the relentless 7th year resumed his seat to wait out the end of the period as he had planned, hoping beyond hope that Lyla had failed to witness his botched attempt at speaking with her.

Lyla slowed her sprint to a jog as she neared the greenhouses. Her lungs straining for air as she had tore through Hogwarts from the tower on the 7th floor to the grounds as fast as she could without stopping. She was already far past the point of being late so she really shouldn't have bothered.

However she had this burning desire to be as far from her Head of House as humanly possible while she still had the chance. Just in case either of the two in charge of the castle and its' students had a change of mind.

Of course now that she was quite a good distance from them she very well could have and did indeed consider skipping the class. Though in the likelihood that the entire teaching staff at Hogwarts had in fact gone certifiably mad that day—like she suspected—Lyla didn't want to chance leaving Rylie alone to face whatever awfulness Professor Sprout had in store for them.

Lyla inhaled deeply. Her racing pulse having finally returned to normal made this easier than previously. Before entering the greenhouse Lyla checked herself over, smoothing out her uniform and pulling her wild unruly locks into a hair clip to make her look more presentable and less like she'd just been doing something unspeakably naughty.

With the way rumors spread around the school Lyla had no doubt that everyone had heard at least one variation of what she'd done to her Charms class. However it was Valentine's Day and with the way her luck usually went everyone was more than likely too wrapped around their significant—or prospective—other to pay much attention to idle gossip.

Better to be safe than sorry though, considering how late she was. She didn't want to risk anyone getting the wrong idea and then have to deal with nasty tales going around about her promiscuity next.

Fully satisfied that she didn't give off the impression of having just been violated Lyla entered the greenhouse. Her arrival did not go as unnoticed as she had hoped unfortunately. Lyla had wished to silently slip into the class without drawing attention to herself but she should have known better than to expect that to still be an option.

Smiling apologetically at her Professor, Lyla tiptoed towards her seat paying no heed to the looks and blatant staring of her classmates. A good majority of the class—those that had heard what had happened but weren't present to witness said event—were shocked and speechless. They hadn't expected to see her so soon—if at all—after this latest spectacle.

The rest of the class—those in her House whose robes and books were still emitting little smoke signals—were as surprised as they were perturbed that Lyla had once again—miraculously—escaped punishment. This of course, was quite obvious from her reappearance alone, for if it had been anyone else they'd have been expelled for sure.

Lyla was feeling all kinds of out of sorts. A highly noticeable sort, Rylie noted as her best friend kept her head down as she carefully—making sure to avoid all singed students—made her way to her seat.

It wasn't out of embarrassment for what she'd done that had Lyla acting so peculiarly self-effacing for Rylie was quite convinced her friend was neither ashamed nor remorseful for what she'd pulled. No she avoided any and all eye contact in the hopes that her peers would turn their attentions to an elsewhere that was far from her.

Collapsing into her seat, Lyla sighed in exhaustion. It took nearly all of her strength just to make it the short distance to her seat and tune out the whispers that were already flying around about her at the same time. Her classmates however were quite insistent that she hear them all for they neglected to desist pointing at her as they quite nearly shouted allegations at one another.

After the twelfth accusation that she'd jinxed both Dumbledore and McGonagall into 'forgetting' the whole fiasco that morning, Lyla was fully prepared and willing to scream out an actual hex at the next person who so much as glanced her way. That is, she was going to until something quite curious distracted her from the pursuit of happiness.

There, lying as innocent as it possibly could was a red envelope that was curiously charred around the edges with what appeared to be her name on it. Though of course she couldn't be entirely sure, for what looked like ashes were smudged all over the front, marring the actual name from her inquisitively cautious eyes.

Lyla's first conclusion upon seeing the note was that it was a howler. This was of course understandable since she did piss a great deal of people off that morning. Though who would be stupid enough to actually send her one that day when she was already in quite a foul mood—despite successfully shirking any and all forms of punishment—was beyond her.

Granted she did have a few guesses but she couldn't be certain about any of them, and confronting any of said imbeciles that day would only cause more problems for her later. Or more accurately, more tribulations than were already dog piling on top of her as she wasted precious time contemplating the self-destructive missive.

As Lyla glanced down at the potentially harmful packet, she fleetingly wondered why the thing hadn't gotten impatient and detonated yet. It did appear as though some sort of explosion had previously wreaked havoc upon it so perhaps it had already gone off. Lyla quickly ruled that out however since the note hadn't dismembered itself yet.

It was possible it had been in her line of fire when she had 'overreacted' earlier that day. Even curiouser then, was how it had followed her to her next class. Lyla's eyebrows rose as she figured out what the note had to be, no other possibility was allowed to be entertained. If it wasn't a howler—which she was still assuming since it was still more or less in one piece and not shouting foul things at her person—then that meant someone in her class was behind it!

This epistle could end up being as disastrous as a howler anyway, if it was placed by someone in retaliation to blowing them up—granted an entirely justified motive. On the other hand though, seeing as she was still quite paranoid that the cupids had yet to surrender in their harassment of her, Lyla didn't want to rule out anything.

Therefore—fully believing the letter to be nothing good for her or her dignity—Lyla really did have no other choice in the matter seeing as her self-preservation was on the line. Ready and willing to show those bothersome imps exactly who they were messing with, Lyla reached for her wand.

It was only after she had already taken aim—about ready to shout off a curse of some nasty but predominantly deserving variety—that Rylie finally chose to intervene. "Oh really now Lyla!" Rylie whispered reproachfully. "Isn't blowing up the entire Charms classroom enough for you?"

At Lyla's blank stare Rylie huffed irritably. "It's an inanimate object," she tried reasoning. "What could it possibly do? Why don't you ever just think first? What has that letter done to you?" Apparently Lyla was beyond reasoning at this point.

Eyes glaring, scowl set firmly in place Lyla snarled her response quickly, "Nothing yet. That's because I don't intend to give it the chance."

Lyla lunged to attack the note once more but Rylie had anticipated this. Without saying another word, Rylie leaned over and effortlessly plucked Lyla's wand from her hand, leaving the now disarmed girl in outright disbelief that she had been beaten so easily. Lyla looked up at Rylie, her eyes narrowing in betrayal—after initially getting over the shock that her best friend would so readily side with the cupids.

It was a conspiracy! She was sure of it. Rylie was in cahoots with the cupids. Before long there'll be singing and dancing and dive-bombing kamikaze paper hearts everywhere! Conspiracy! It just had to be. "It's not a conspiracy Lyla," Rylie said wryly, sighing as she continued to take notes.

Lyla felt her eyes widen considerably. "How did you…?" Lyla trailed off wondering just how her friend had known what she was thinking—for she was positive she was doing just that: thinking. She hadn't unknowingly spoken her thoughts aloud, she knew that much because no one else was staring at her any more oddly than they had been before.

Her only theory was that Rylie was some Super-Secret Super-Hero whose super powers were reading minds. All at once images of Rylie—sporting her super hero gear complete with cape, leggings and a colorful capital 'R' plastered on her chest—fighting crime and taking down criminals with the sheer might of her mind flashed through Lyla's entirely confused psyche.

Lyla was just starting to hum along to Super Rylie's imaginary theme song—for what's super hero without their theme song?—when Rylie had finally had enough. Not giving Lyla the chance to come up with anymore far-fetched conclusions Rylie spoke up once more. "Will you just read it already?" At Lyla's stubborn expression Rylie rolled her eyes before attempting one more shot at reasoning with her hard-headed friend.

"Even if the cupids were behind it, you have me here this time. We'll take them down together," Rylie assured her friend, smiling approvingly as Lyla grumbled crossly about the morals of her super hero's persona, but begrudgingly reached for the note nonetheless.

Rylie watched on silently in amusement as her friend's demeanor went through a rapid change of emotions from suspiciously paranoid to confused only to then progress from there to quite obviously flattered until Lyla had made a full transformation into a hormonal robot herself or as Rylie preferred to call it, a girl on Valentine's Day.

Having not read the note herself, Rylie was even more inquisitive after having witnessed Lyla's reaction. Her friend however, was far too distracted to alleviate her curiosity so Rylie sat back, content to wait for the end of class to get her answers.

Lyla for all intents and purposes was positively flabbergasted by the note clutched tightly in her hands. Whatever she had expected, it hadn't been that. She glanced down once more, her eyes slowly re-reading the words on the parchment for the fifth time, trying to make sense of what she was looking at all the while mortified that she couldn't keep her complexion from giving her excitement away.

_**Lyla,**_

_**My fondness for you knows no bounds. My heart is fit to burst at the sight of you. I wish more than ever for the courage to say this to you myself, but for now these pitiful words will have to do.**_

_**My dearest Lyla, you are the secret of my heart which races at your mere mention. Your voice is my sweetest serenade shaming the nightingale's song; your face could by Rembrandt's muse. Yet for all the beauty and grace you possess it is the fiery passion of your heart and soul that shall hold me entranced. Evermore and forever yours.**_

_** Secretly yours.**_

Lyla obstinately refused to meet the inquiring eyes of her best friend, already knowing exactly what she would find if she did. Despite what her friend may have thought it took a bit longer for Lyla to acknowledge and then accept her newfound robotic ways for she knew better than to judge a parchment by its wonderful prose.

For one thing she found the notion of a secret admirer outlandishly odd—though the thought did make her flush with excitement all the same. But why not just come right out and tell her? Was she that intimidating, really?

Lyla paused briefly in her ponderings, thinking back on the events of that morning and relented on that issue. She couldn't rightly blame a bloke for not wanting to confront her like that with the knowledge she'd just gathered. She was after all highly unpredictable it would appear.

The blush that rose to the surface of her skin this time was not caused by the excitement that in spite of all her best efforts kept bubbling up inside her. It was instead caused by the frustration Lyla felt over being entirely clueless.

It had to be someone in her class that much was obvious alone. It wasn't a Hufflepuff, Lyla decided vigorously. Other than being bloody annoying in all manner of speaking, Lyla had quite literally blown them all up so they were out of the question. As were all of her housemates as well for she highly doubted any of the still smoldering Gryffindors held any affection for her right then.

Barring those other Houses—she wasn't even considering the Slytherins to be an option—that left the Ravenclaws. Lyla surveyed the class of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws interspersed around her. Logically it could have been one of the Ravenclaws but she had blown up their Head of House!

She knew loyalty was a more keenly Gryffindor characteristic but Lyla didn't doubt the hostility that was bound to be simmering—awaiting the most proper moment to be unleashed—deep in the know-it-all's who were intently listening as Professor Sprout spouted on about something Lyla just couldn't find it in her to take an interest in.

That left Lyla back where she started: frustrated, flustered, and without a clue as to who was behind it all. Lyla's thoughts flew off on an angry tangent as she realized she was obsessing far more than she ought to be. She was not the type to go all girly just because some bloke sent her a letter expressing their undying devotion.

Did they think it romantic springing this on her all of a sudden just because it was Valentine's Day? The more and more Lyla thought on it the more the color in her cheeks darkened. Much to her utter mortification she found she wasn't quite as bothered by this as she usually would have been.

Lyla let her head be harshly introduced to the table in front of her and groaned in agony. The note had in fact flattered her to the point of embarrassment, and she was indeed intrigued by it but…Lyla picked her head up and glared at the note now being clutched angrily in her hand. She most certainly did not want to be a robot.

She had to do something. She had to fix this and quick before she started to actually enjoy the thought of having a secret admirer. Her only option was to find out who the sod was, track him down and either hex or _lovingly_ tackle them. Her choice of action was of course depending entirely on the identity of the person.

Lyla growled audibly and pouted at the turn her thoughts kept taking with no conscious control of her own. She quickly focused on the task at hand, running down a mental list of all the guys she knew or had contact with in some way.

Harry was her brother so obviously it wasn't him, unless of course he and Ron thought it funny to mess with her. This as well was unlikely considering Harry at least had enough sense about him to know what she would do to the both of them should he even let his friend contemplate doing something so foolish.

Fred and George were in much the same boat without potential paddles so they were quickly crossed off her list. After all, she didn't doubt _they_ knew better. She'd been nice to Neville recently so didn't automatically rule him out.

That left Malfoy—Lyla snorted loudly at this absurd possibility—and Flint—who had taken an odd and highly disturbing interest in her as of late. She'd hex him right now if only she were certain—and of course if the teachers were to spontaneously disappear.

Those were the only blokes Lyla had actually conversed with that year or actually knew by name and the only ones that seemed plausible were Neville and Flint. Neville obviously being the more sincere and therefore difficult to let down easily.

Sure Lyla liked Neville! He was a sweet boy after all. But he wasn't exactly her type. Though after Oliver Lyla wasn't entirely sure what her type was anymore…

Lyla scowled, grabbing her head to try and physically deter her mind from straying too far near thoughts of Oliver Wood. A stinging pain in her eye successfully accomplished the task for her as the parchment she'd crumpled in her hand viciously poked her in the eye. From across the table Rylie sniggered into her glass.

Lyla heard multiple clicks as things started falling into place in her mind. Rylie was there before her. She had to have seen something. Lyla very nearly slapped her forehead at her div-ness if it weren't for the remembrance of pain that stayed her hand.

Impatiently she opened her mouth to interrogate her friend when the irritated hoot of an owl met her ears. Lyla jumped and looked to her left just in time to dodge the bird's beak as it made to take a chunk out of her face. It was then of course that Lyla also realized that they were no longer in Herbology.

Rylie tried to keep a straight face as she watched her friend dodge the school owl that was insistently hooting at her, as difficult as that proved to be. However she could not prevent the grin that overcame her features when Lyla ignored the angry owl to ask, "When precisely did we leave class?"

Looking pointedly at the owl Rylie neglected to answer her oblivious friend for she did not wish to miss a moment of the attack. Lyla thankfully took the silent warning and reached for the bundle the enormous barn owl was waiting to deliver. Narrowly missing getting bit Lyla quickly untied the package from the beast not looking at what she'd grabbed for she didn't wish to lose any fingers to the rabid creature.

Though the monstrous bird did accomplish nipping her hand well after Lyla had already taken the package from it. Lyla scowled, licking the reddening wound on her hand as she pitched her empty bowl at the owl that was already halfway down the table. Lyla ducked her head as the dish knocked over the pumpkin juice of some seventh year she recognized as the twins very uptight older brother—who just so happened to be Head Boy—Percy, the liquid saturating the front of his immaculate uniform.

Rylie watched all this unfold before her, highly amused at the day her friend had been having and her newfound utter lack of awareness. Lyla had been so immersed in her own thoughts that she hadn't noticed Herbology ending. Nor did she focus back in on reality when she had gotten up and walked out of the greenhouse with her friend.

She in fact didn't even acknowledge that someone had been calling her name as she passed through the entrance hall on her way to lunch and Rylie was far too busy making sure Lyla—in her dazed state—didn't bump into anything and take a nasty tumble to take note of who precisely was calling out after her friend.

Now Rylie didn't know exactly what brought Lyla out of her thoughts, but she'd bet her last knut it had something to do with the note she received and had yet to let her best friend read. Not that Rylie was getting impatient or anything. Just overcome by curiosity is all.

"Mind if I take a peep at that while you open your package?" she asked quickly, admitting, after a moment of mental cringing, that she was in fact in denial about said impatient ness, with all good reason of course.

Lyla's answer came in the form of a grunt as she shoved the crumpled parchment into Rylie's hand, her focus now exclusively on the long rectangular box lying on the table in front of her. It was a plain white box with a simple dark crimson ribbon wrapped purposefully around it tied into a large heart shaped bow on the front. Lyla barely took note of this for her curiosity had finally thrown all caution to the wind, causing her to forgo her previous ponderings and delve into more rewarding actions.

Tearing the enormous bow from the parcel, Lyla hastily ripped the box open, freezing when her eyes landed on the contents it held. She gasped in shock tentatively reaching out a hand to stroke the silky burgundy petals of the fully bloomed long-stemmed rose that was nestled neatly in its container.

Oddly enough Lyla found she was horrifyingly giddy at the sight of the flower. She quickly perused the inside of the box, searching for a card and successfully finding it tucked near the bottom of its carefully clipped stem. Her eyes quickly scanned the words on the card, the hue on her cheeks darkening with every word.

_**Lyla,**_

_**This rose tis but an emblem of my affections for you. You honor me by accepting these meager offerings as tokens of my devotion for it is sent with the sincerest declaration of my adorations.**_

_**Secretly yours.**_

_**~P.S. I'm sure you'll find its' **_

_**fragrance to your liking.**_

'Cryptic much?' Lyla thought as she picked up the delicate blossom and raised it to her face, inhaling deeply as she did. She was quite disturbed at what happened next. Or at least she would have been had her muscles not relaxed against her will; her body swooning to the side, a lazy smile flitting hazardously across her lips as her eyes momentarily glossed over and lost all focus.

A soft, contented sigh escaped from Lyla as she gazed off dreamily, staring at nothing in particular and pleased to do so as well. She didn't have a clue what had come over her but strangely enough she found she suddenly didn't care. Her senses were completely at ease as she relaxed into the scent of freshly mown grass, feeling as though she was lazing back in a field of it.

The aroma given off by the rose changed as she took another whiff, breathing in deeply the smell of morning after a nightly rainfall. Lyla swore she could feel the cool crisp air on her face, a gentle misty breeze ruffling her hair and soothing her earlier worries from her mind.

There was another scent lingering around the others but Lyla couldn't identify it though she was positive she was quite fond of it nonetheless. Another sickening sigh left Lyla, by no will of her own of course as she smiled affectionately down at the rose still resting gently in her palms. Perhaps she was wrong. Maybe it wasn't so awful being a mindless automaton sometimes.

"Hello Lyla!" a voice chirped cheerily from beside her startling Lyla out of her progression into robotics. Lyla glanced over startled at the sight of Neville sitting next to her when she was quite sure he hadn't been there before. Lyla swallowed thickly torn between thanking Neville profusely for the beautiful rose or shoving the box at him and quickly racing away—for she was now positive it just _had_ to be him behind it all.

"What d'ya got there, eh?" he asked quickly, leaning over excitedly to peer in the box. He smiled widely at the sight of the flower causing the pit in Lyla's stomach to expand harshly. "Looks like you've got yourself an admirer, don't you? Good for you!" Neville exclaimed smiling happily at Lyla.

After a few seconds of silently gaping dumbly at Neville Lyla let out a relieved laugh, feeling the tension that had been building dissipate as she concluded that _he_ was obviously not '_Secretly_' hers. Unfortunately that left Flint the victor of future slaps on more than just his wrists. That was unless Rylie had any brighter ideas.

Lyla glanced up at her friend hoping she had some suggestions. Not that she wouldn't enjoy hexing Flint for even thinking of her that way, because she most definitely would, but she didn't want to rule out any possibilities especially after receiving that bizarre smelling rose. Rylie was silent across from her, still staring at her note; a confused and slightly disturbed look broadcasting for all of Hogwarts to see on her facade.

"Any idea who 'secretly' adores me?" Lyla asked casually, suspicious of the expression of her friends face.

"Haven't the slightest." Rylie replied shortly leaving Lyla even more disbelieving. Rylie knew something. Lyla hadn't the foggiest what exactly. But she knew there was something she didn't know that her friend was quite awful at pretending she didn't know. Why else would she be staring so oddly at the letter, when under normal circumstances she would have already been helping Lyla contemplate who'd dun it.

Whatever Rylie had been expecting to be in the note, it was definitely not _that_. She had seen the twins' gloriously failed attempt to deliver the missive and out of the goodness of her heart, acted on good faith that the twins were smart enough to know better than to mess with Lyla again and planted the letter for them.

What were they thinking? Sending Lyla a love note? Rylie didn't expect them to learn their lesson considering all the times before they disregarded any and all warnings so she was confused. She wasn't sure if they were being serious and actually in love with her best friend or taking the piss and in love with Lyla-like rage.

More than likely it was the latter but Rylie figured the least she could do was give them the benefit of the doubt. She decided to help out and give them a fighting chance by putting in a good word for them. That wasn't considered accessory to the plot was it? Rylie briefly pondered the disturbing implications of this thought, hoping she wasn't just goading their scheme along by helping out for she highly doubted Lyla would take that well.

Rylie shuddered at the possibilities before forcing her mind to focus back on the task at hand. She knew who was behind the note. The only issue now was their motive. If they were honestly as infatuated with her best friend as their letter claimed, they should have known better than to have sent a note like that signed with merely a _'Secretly yours'._ Especially after that previous weekend's fiasco with—

Rylie cringed as she nearly felt that train of thought smash into a brick wall cleverly disguised as a tunnel. She didn't want to rule anything out at this point. And on the off-chance that Oliver had gone and done something outrageously stupid like going to the twins for advice Rylie wanted to be prepared for all potential outcomes.

All bases covered Rylie set off on damage control. Though she did feel herself going a bit green at the prospect of with-holding crucial evidence from Lyla, Rylie fought vigorously to resist the urge to lose her lunch all over the table. "Any idea who 'secretly' adores me?"

Rylie felt her eyes bulge momentarily before she quickly caught herself and choked out a response she was hoping didn't sound as noticeably forced as it was. "Haven't the slightest." It was apparently as obvious as she feared for the suspicious glare that was no longer aimed at the 'love note' was now burrowing a pocket of uneasiness straight through Rylie.

She knew Lyla was about to interrogate her so she panicked and did the one thing she could think of. "I think its Malfoy." Mission successfully accomplished. Whatever Lyla had been about to do or say to her best friend was temporarily disbanded from her mind at Rylie's preposterous suggestion.

"What?" Lyla laughed in disbelief. "Come off it!"

"Lyla!" Rylie reprimanded, biting her cheek to keep from telling her friend the truth. "I'm completely serious. Everyone else can see it I'm sure of it, why cant you?"

"See it? See what exactly?" Lyla inquired nearing the hysterical mark.

Heaving an overdramatic sigh of exasperation Rylie assumed a mocking tone while gesturing over her shoulder. "That Malfoy, despite not wanting to admit it to himself even, is quite smitten with you!"

She didn't know how she managed to get that sentence out with a straight face but she was all too glad she did. She wasn't lying entirely. At one point during the year she was quite convinced that prat Slytherin fancied her best friend. She was actually channeling those suspicions from then to try and convince Lyla. "Why do you think he gets all flustered when you stand up to him?"

"Public humiliation tends to do that to a bloke," Lyla answered dryly, rolling her eyes at her friend's suggestion.

"Oh alright then! Be in denial," pouting for added effect, Rylie chucked the crumpled note back at her stubborn friend.

Lyla caught the note and carefully smoothed it out, setting it neatly on the open box next to her. Rylie kept quiet for a few seconds, noting Lyla's affectionate gaze continuously being aimed at the rose she'd _purposefully_ shoved aside.

Rylie fought hard to shield the smirk on her face at her friend's unconscious actions before speaking up again. "Now this is a bit strange Lye." When she knew she had Lyla's attention again she carried on. "I know you. You've probably already thought through all the possibilities and if you're positive it's not Malfoy," Lyla's glare was confirmation enough for her, "and it's not someone you know, that means you've got yourself a stalker."

Lyla didn't respond which only sent Rylie's concerns sky-rocketing. "You don't find that a tad…unsettling?"

Lyla shrugged unconcernedly, glanced back at the rose and sighed blissfully causing Rylie's eyes to expand once again. She wasn't entirely sure exactly when precisely her friend made the full upgrade to android but she knew she didn't like it. She seemed to be taking this whole stalker development far better than she normally would have.

Examining Lyla further, Rylie noted that she appeared relaxed and pleasant quite suddenly considering only a few minutes ago she was on the verge of a violent panic attack that could have potentially taken out the entire population of Hogwarts, House Ghosts included. Rylie's scrupulous glare shifted to the rose that had just arrived. Reaching across the table, she quickly plucked the parchment from the box and scanned the words for any clues.

Upon reaching the afterthought at the end Rylie felt like smacking her forehead, for it was closer than the twins at the time. When Lyla finds out that those igits dosed her with a love potion all hell was going to break loose. Rylie was rapidly growing concerned for her friend. She didn't appear to be blinking and her eyes were starting to glaze over.

'Surely that's not a good sign,' Rylie groaned in her head. Forget putting in a good word for Fred and George, Rylie needed to find them quick before Hogwarts imploded or something. Before she did anything else however, Rylie desperately needed to get rid of the offending aroma wafting dangerously around her friend.

Reaching over again on the pretense of slipping the card back where she got it, Rylie surreptitiously closed the lid over the box successfully sealing its' scent from unsuspecting passersby. She didn't dare breathe while doing so in fear of inhaling some of its poisonous fumes, for whatever the twins had done she worried it might be contagious and she needed all her wits about her if she was going to fix everything.

Lyla was starting to grin widely at nothing in particular. Things were already far worse than she could have ever imagined. Rylie briefly toyed with the idea of telling Lyla everything she knew just to be sure she wouldn't do anything too damaging and then pointing her in the direction of Fred and George so she could deal with them herself.

Just as she was about to do just that however Lyla finally chose to answer Rylie, "It's just nice, you know? To actually get noticed for once…for being me and not for the stunts I pull or the mischief I get into."

'Alright, semi-coherent thought, obviously the enchantment's wearing off.' Rylie held her tongue to keep from pointing out that her 'fiery passion' was probably referring to just that. "Well, what of your whole hatred of everything V-Day?" Rylie asked curiously, desperately trying to find something to tether her friend back down to reality.

Lyla grinned lazily, "Well if you can't beat 'em—"

Rylie desperately hoped Lyla was going to snap out of it and finish that statement with 'find a bigger stick'.

"Join 'em!"

Rylie turned to glare down the Gryffindor table at the twins only to find they had vanished. Which was fortunate for them for Rylie was feeling slightly homicidal at that moment. She had to get Lyla stable first and though she loathed to play this card, she was getting desperate.

"What about Oliver?" Rylie swore she saw a twitch in Lyla's happy façade.

Lyla's smile this time was obviously more forced than before as she tried to shrug indifferently. "C'est la vie! It's obviously not going to work between me and him, so I say move on."

Obviously Rylie had to be more specific. "I meant what if Oliver's behind all this?" That did it. Lyla's face fell as though she honestly hadn't thought him to be a possibility.

She had been avoiding him like the plague after that past Saturday—which frankly Rylie couldn't blame her for. Regardless, even if Rylie hadn't known the twins were behind all this hoopla Oliver would have been her first suspect. So either Lyla was in complete and utter denial about how Oliver felt about her or she truly did just want to move past it all and forget about him.

'This isn't going to end well,' Rylie concluded as she thought back to that 'off-chance' that Oliver had gone to the twins for help. What if it really was him sending her those emblems of his affection? If so and Lyla was indeed in the process of getting over him, then they had a major problem. Once Lyla set her mind to something, there were few forces in this world that would deter her from her path and Rylie wasn't naïve enough to believe Fred and George Weasley had what it took to accomplish that task.

"I guess we'd have a lot to talk about," Lyla stated looking for all intents and purposes as though she'd rather get up and shout to the Great Hall of her undying devotion to Malfoy than have a chat with Oliver. "These," Lyla gestured to the rose and notes she'd received so far, "won't fix everything after all."

Rylie sensed a glimmer of hope for the incompetent moron that fancied her best friend. "But they help, right?"

Lyla finally broke out a genuine and more importantly—sober—smile, "Definitely. Though the prospect of it being him after last Hogsmeade is slim. Nearly nonexistent even."

"How're you going to find out then?" Rylie inquired curiously.

Lyla grinned, "The only way I can."

Rylie was shocked and hopeful as she asked, "You're going to ask him flat out if it was him?"

"Pft." Lyla scoffed as she gathered her things and walked off, away from her suddenly uneasy yet gleeful friend. It was then that Rylie let out a breath of relief. Her friend was up to something. She should have known better than to suspect Lyla to do that. It wouldn't be very Lyla of her if she did.

Lyla barely made it halfway across the Entrance Hall before she was stopped. "Oi Potter!" The only ones in Hogwarts that called her Potter were those she'd rather not call her anything at all—strictly for their own personal safety of course. Pursing her lips, Lyla contemplated ignoring whoever it was.

"You're forgetting something." Unfortunately curiosity had always been her greatest downfall. Turning on her heal, Lyla raised an inquiring eyebrow as Flint foolishly moseyed his way towards her. Well this was certainly convenient. Now Lyla didn't have to wait till they were unsupervised.

"What's that then?" The sooner they got this over with the sooner she could bash him over the head with his lovely presents.

"Me." He responded cockily looking her over as he made his way closer.

'He's not serious.' Lyla concluded in wide-eyed disbelief. Upon realizing that he was in fact entirely serious, Lyla could not resist her default response system kicking into effect.

Oliver sighed despondently, staring down the Gryffindor table at the girl who'd been plaguing his thoughts for months without even knowing it. She had just received a package with a rose in it, and much to Oliver's annoyance seemed to be absolutely smitten by it and therefore its sender. He watched as Lyla gently felt the flowers' petals and felt a distinct punch in the gut at every loving caress.

All around her sighs echoed from the hopeless—and especially hapless—romantics Oliver noticed with distaste while trying to peer around the giggling chits who were all trying desperately to get his attention. Sparing a second to glare at the two troublemakers he was destined to watch over that day Oliver decided that since they were there with him they couldn't ruin his life so he didn't really need to _stalk_ Lyla anymore. Though he was still adamant that he was doing nothing of the sort!

It was just coincidence really; that he kept showing up at the same time and place Lyla was going to be. If he'd had things his way earlier he'd still be moping around in his room mooning away over her, not babysitting his mischievous housemates while getting ogled by the female population that unfortunately didn't include Lyla Potter. She wasn't the ogling type Oliver concluded miserably.

He sighed again watching as what appeared to be a heated discussion erupted between Lyla and her friend. He vaguely pondered what they could possibly be talking about—a glimmer of hope springing up in him that Rylie was telling Lyla to come to her senses and admit how madly in love with him she truly was. Before his mind could delve any further into this ludicrous fantasy he noticed McGonagall striding purposefully his way.

Now considering he was putting a significant damper on the twins' fun that day it was understandable that Oliver panicked thinking the worse had crossed their minds and they'd gone through with it. However before he could start protesting his love for Minerva McGonagall, she swooped in and started interrogating Fred and George much to his relief.

McGonagall grilling the twins on their latest misdemeanors was nothing new to the 7th year, so Oliver intended to return to pining for a third year. And he most certainly would have too. That is if McGonagall hadn't been furiously projecting the most interesting questions for all the Great Hall to hear—Oliver himself most notably included.

"What do you two know of the incident involving Miss Potter earlier this morning?" McGonagall asked while glaring suspiciously at Fred and George. The students surrounding the trio inconspicuously shifted themselves away from them as it became clear their Head of House's wrath was about to be unleashed.

Several key words in this subtle accusation successfully managed to draw in Oliver's wandering attention. The most prominent of course being the girl of his dreams being mentioned. Add to that the word 'incident' and the twins' potential involvement and Oliver was all ears for the upcoming conversation.

The twins shared an equally incriminating look as they thought quickly on how to best escape punishment. "We can honestly say that we know nothing Professor," Fred answered, smiling charmingly at an even more stern than usual McGonagall.

"Well nothing more than what the gossip hounds have been spewing about in the corridors," George cut in before their Head of House could voice her skepticism.

"Right you are Georgie my boy!" Fred exclaimed before redirecting his attention back to their irate Professor. "Purely out of curiosity though, did she really blow up the charms classroom, or is everyone just over exaggerating?"

Oliver was momentarily confused. Were the twins just spouting nonsense or did Lyla really vandalize a portion of Hogwarts? And if so how did he not know about it? If there truly was an explosion, wouldn't he have heard it? Felt it even? And what would provoke her into doing such a thing?

Surely she didn't do it for amusement like the twins would have. That just wasn't like her. There had to be a reason and Oliver was certain he was sitting directly across from them.

"So you two were nowhere near the Charms corridor this morning?" McGonagall asked shrewdly trying to get to the truth.

"That's absolutely correct Professor!" Fred and George shouted joyfully.

"Hmm…" that one knowing syllable raised the hairs on the back of Oliver's neck. It was enough to wipe the pompous grins off the twins faces as well. "Then how do you account for your singed faces Mr.'s Weasley?"

"Potion's experiment gone horribly wrong?" George asked hopefully. Oliver had to hand it to them, they sure did think fast. Oliver was completely astounded that they were still adamant to having no involvement when evidence to the contrary was clearly all over them. Their faces were completely soot covered and they had what looked like wood fragments sticking haphazardly from their disheveled hair.

McGonagall was not amused. Neither was she impressed as she proceeded to glower down at the twins in the hopes that her best 'teacher stare' would get them to confess to whatever it was they did. "I know neither of you attended any of your morning classes. Care to enlighten me as to where you two were and what exactly you were doing?"

"We were with Oliver." Fred stated calmly. So calmly Oliver almost bought it.

"He's been so upset lately," George began dramatically.

"And what with it being Valentine's Day," Fred carried on making it clear to Oliver at least what they were doing. This was classic Fred and George tactics. They were attempting the back and forth method to try and throw McGonagall off her game. Oliver was positive the Deputy Headmistress was on to them however.

"We were trying to take his mind off of," George cut in again.

"You know who." The twins finished together glancing pointedly in Lyla's direction.

Oliver could not believe his ears. That was definitely a first and most certainly a last for that statement especially if Lyla ever got wind of the twins comparing her to He Who Must Not Be Named. Oliver shuddered as thoughts of what she'd probably do to them began vividly painting the gruesome portrait in his mind when McGonagall once again interrupted his rampant imagination.

"Is this true Mr. Wood?"

It was impossible to avoid the strict gaze of his Professor though Oliver wished with all his might for the ability to do so. The twins were pleading with him behind her back but Oliver didn't know what they wanted him to do. He had a fairly good idea but his stomach turned at the thought of it. He couldn't even imagine lying to McGonagall on his own behalf let alone theirs.

Oliver sighed at the dilemma that was now before him. He could admit that they were bothering him _earlier_ that morning for it was partially true and would be believable. On the other hand, if McGonagall was busy trying to get to the bottom of whatever the twins were up to, then Oliver wouldn't have to worry about them sabotaging him and his life.

Quite the quandary… "Honestly Professor," Oliver started slowly, smiling pleasantly at his housemates' hopeful faces, "This is the first I've seen them all day." Ok so lying to McGonagall was admittedly a lot easier than he thought it'd be.

Oliver grinned triumphantly at his victory over the Weasley twins, watching gleefully as an even more irate McGonagall carted them away, bending their ears about their antics and the consequences of lying to her again. Smugly watching on as Fred and George were forcibly removed from the Great Hall Oliver smirked widely. Lyla would be so proud.

Oliver could have sworn he felt that light bulb flash on above his head as the epiphany he'd just had coursed through his mind. He couldn't just walk up to Lyla without a game plan. He was not the kind of idiot that did that. No he was smarter than that. He needed an in. A reason to talk to Lyla and the twins scheming against the two of them and Oliver heroically saving her from them was surely his ticket to happiness.

Now all he had to do was wait till he could get her alone, for he still hadn't recovered from his last attempt to talk with her and he found public humiliation was just awful for his complexion. Though on the off chance that he'd lose his nerve by the time that opportunity presented itself, Oliver thought it best to get it over with.

Oliver took a deep breath to ready himself for the conversation ahead. He went over all the possible ways to start said discussion and considered the ones that didn't sound quite as lame as 'hey'. When he felt prepared and moreover sedated enough he made his move, turning to make his way towards the girl that could make or break his entire day.

He didn't expect to only see an ashen-faced Rylie sitting alone at their spot and momentarily panicked as he searched the Great Hall for the redheaded love of his adolescent life. Finding her was easy enough as she was heading in his direction, what to do next however was more of an issue than Oliver would have liked.

What if he tried to speak with her and she just walked past him, pretending he didn't exist? Or worse…catching sight of him and purposefully taking off? It was one thing to approach her while she was with her friend and otherwise unaware of his intent. Trying to catch her on the run was a scenario he hadn't thought through yet and therefore was thoroughly unprepared to handle.

He was still sitting, spastically arguing with himself the closer she got. Should he do something? Say something or simply just let her pass and accost her at another less potentially discomfiting time? There was little time to make a decision and Oliver feared he had made the wrong one as he moved to stand and gain her attention by any means necessary.

The internal tug-of-war he'd been having between getting up and not ended when Lyla passed behind him. Oliver stood up quickly, but as Lyla was already behind him he had to turn around to get her attention. And considering that he was more focused on not letting her slip away yet again and less on what he was actually doing, this action did not end well in his favor.

Oliver briefly wondered whether he was still unconscious and being persistently tormented by a nightmare that was plaguing him as his foot caught on something under the table and he toppled backwards over his seat. The impact of his head meeting the stone walkway for the second time that day and the recollection of pain ruled that theory out however.

Oliver refused to open his eyes for a few moments afterwards in fear of what he might find. He could hear a few startled gasps and the occasional snicker from around him but he didn't want to verify whether or not Lyla was one of the chortlers. He didn't really have much of a choice though. It wasn't like he could just lie there for the rest of the day and hope nobody stepped on him.

Rubbing the back of his head Oliver groaned as he reluctantly opened his eyes. Fortunately for him Lyla was not standing over him, laughing at his clumsiness. Gazing in the direction she was headed Oliver sighed dejectedly. Lyla apparently hadn't noticed anything strange as she was ambling by his klutzy self and Oliver was somewhat relieved that he was still practically invisible to her.

On the contrary it was a bit more than mildly upsetting that no matter what he did he wasn't even a blip on her radar anymore. Unfortunately he couldn't say the same for the rest of the female population—and some of the males as well. The instant Lyla was out the doors a horde of dotingly concerned girls pounced on him, cooing nonsense as they tried to help him up.

Oliver was embarrassed enough as it was, and now he was offended on top of everything else. He didn't need help from a bunch of girls! And to have them think that he needed their assistance was an even greater blow to his ego than having Lyla pretend he didn't exist. Waving them off, Oliver attempted to heave himself off the floor.

When his endeavor only landed him in the same position he'd been trying to escape, he became curious and a bit suspicious as well. The source of his recent downfalls was found easily enough. Apparently the twins were not ones to go down without a fight or retaliation in this instance though Oliver had no clue how they'd accomplished it without him knowing it. He couldn't have been that clueless right?

He'd only just decided to let McGonagall do his dirty work for him two seconds before the incriminating fib came out of his mouth. So either he really was that transparent or the twins' ninja résumés now included mind reading as one of their many talents. Oliver shuddered at the possibility, waving off the girls who had already gotten to work untying his laces from the opposite shoe and correcting them.

He should have known better than to assume he could sell the twins up the river without them trying to drown him in return. Making sure his shoelaces were no longer working against him Oliver returned to his seat at the Gryffindor table. The twins were in the custody of one outrageously perturbed McGonagall and it wasn't like Lyla was going to just disappear so he had time to compose himself before tracking her down again.

That was the plan at least, until he spotted Flint sneaking out after Lyla. She had only been out of his sight for about 30 seconds which meant she was still in the Entrance Hall and about to be hassled by his nemesis. He had to do something! He couldn't just sit there getting fawned over by a generous amount of the school's female population—and a few of the males as well.

Though it was awfully tempting to do so, Oliver jumped to his feet—managed to keep on them this time—and raced out the Great Hall doors. The sight that met his flabbergasted eyes however, nearly knocked him over again. Instead of the confrontation Oliver had been expecting to save Lyla from Oliver found what appeared to be a civil conversation progressing between the one girl that seemed to matter and his archenemy.

They were standing close together. Lyla laughing with Flint at something he said. Her vibrant red locks flowing down her back as she threw her head back in a jovial illustration screaming of how much she was enjoying herself and present company.

"_I'd choose him over you any day."_ Lyla's cruel declaration from his nightmare echoed on repeat in Oliver's head as he watched the two interact. _"He's more of a man than you'll ever be."_ Oliver winced as all his worries from his dream vehemently hurtled into him. What if his subconscious was trying to tell him something and simply gave up trying to be subtle about it?

What if Lyla truly wasn't interested in _him_ anymore, but in _Flint_? He did wreck their last date after all. What if that was the last straw for Lyla and she gave up on him? Oliver's heart plummeted to the bottom of his stomach as he watched on in silent contemplation.

Heck if it wasn't for the twins dragging him into whatever it was they were plotting he'd have eventually gotten over her like his dream had obviously wanted him to. And maybe it was better that way. Perhaps Flint was better _for_ her. After all it didn't appear as though he had any issues getting her attention or carrying on a conversation that actually held her attention.

Sighing in defeat, his shoulders slumping as he gave in, Oliver silently renounced his claim on the third year. If she really did like Flint then Oliver would back off. He'd leave right then and there; let them carry on with whatever they planned on doing and not say a word on the future pairing. But not before he took one final glance at the girl that could have been his world.

It was at that exact moment, when Oliver's eyes fell upon the soon-to-be couple that Lyla renewed his hope that all was not yet lost. Whatever had just fell out of Flint's mouth, it was obviously the wrong thing to say to one Lyla Potter. There was no longer any trace of a smile on the girl's face as she swung with what looked like all the strength she had and slapped the smirk right off of the Slytherin's face.

Oliver however feared the grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth might turn him inside out if he didn't control it. Whatever chance Flint may have had with Lyla vanished with the last echo of that smack to his person, pride, and ego. This of course meant Oliver still had a fighting chance! After all Lyla had never whacked him, Oliver gloated smugly to himself.

Sure she'd hit him in his dream several times but Oliver had already verified that those strikes were entirely the twins reigning chaos over his psyche. Lyla had nothing to do with that! If it weren't for Fred and George all these doubts wouldn't even be in his head in the first place. That dream of his wouldn't have battered him up and his conviction to win Lyla over would still be persuading him to finally make his move.

The one where he boldly strides up to her and sweeps her off her feet like the knight in shinning armor to her fairy tale princess. She'd sigh into his arms, smiling dreamily up at him as though he were her entire world. And with a kiss to seal the deal he would be.

Oliver straightened his back, determination etched into his features. He didn't need a pep talk or a step by step plan of action this time. He was just going to walk straight up to her, pull her into the comfort of his arms and kiss her like she'd never been kissed before! And then they'd live happily ever after of course.

That is they would have…if Lyla was anywhere near where he left her. Oliver's deluded vision bubble of how things would play out popped over his head showering him in the jagged shards of his shattered dreams. He'd been so caught up in gloating about still having a chance with Lyla that he didn't even notice she'd stormed off. And just when he finally decided to speak to her, she runs off again!

Sighing miserably once more, Oliver took off on what felt like a never-ending chase to catch and contain one unruly and untamable Lyla Potter.

Lyla scowled as she stormed down a random corridor of Hogwarts castle. She was supposed to be in Defense Against the Dark Arts at that moment but she was entirely too peeved to care to do so. Remus would understand. Furthermore he would appreciate her staying as far away as she could in the state she was in. If he knew the day that'd been tormenting her she was certain he'd approve of her skipping his class.

She had already been forced to endure far more than a thirteen year old girl could take that day! She'd been pestered by Ipshtick, lectured by McGonagall for defending herself against said harassment from said igit. Confused and irritated by these mysterious gifts that kept popping up everywhere and now on top of everything else Flint just had to jump on the bandwagon of making Lyla's Valentine's Day even worse than she could have ever foreseen.

Was it just her luck that no one could take a bloody hint? She laughed in his face for Merlin's sake! Laughed at him, not with! Surely that wasn't some distorted international come hither signal that she just wasn't aware of. Someone would have told her at some point or another she was positive of that at least.

He'd been making eyes at her since their little run in at Hogsmeade. Lyla supposed he didn't know she knew and she honestly wished she was that clueless as well. Unfortunately for her, she caught every wink and suggestive look he threw at her and it was starting to really creep her out.

The only good thing to come out of her latest encounter with Flint was that she could cross him off her list of suspects. He hadn't said anything about the rose or notes she'd gotten and apparently his idea of wooing was making derogatory statements about her classmates.

"_That mudblood Ipshtick completely had it coming. Thinking he could speak to his betters like that._ _I'm so pleased you've finally come to your senses Lyla. You see the filth allowed into our world now, don't you?"_

Lyla was enraged that anyone—Slytherin or not—would even _think _she believed in all that pureblood supremacy malarkey. Fortunately for Flint she was so angry that she didn't remember she had magical abilities else Hogwarts would have had to remove yet another moron from it's' ceiling.

Instead Lyla slapped the elder Slytherin across his trollish face, stated as calmly as possible that he was the only filth she could see and stomped off before Flint could even process what had just happened.

Was it just him and Malfoy or were all Slytherins such thick heads? Lyla paused in her tirade momentarily to run through a mental list of all the Slytherins she'd come across that year. When she couldn't find a single one with an above average I.Q. she smirked finding a flaw in their pureblood ways.

'That's what happens when your family tree has no branches.' Before Lyla could elaborate anymore on this hypothesis she felt her body's forward momentum reverse in the floors favor. Staring angrily at the ceiling Lyla concluded that this was definitely not her day. Pondering momentarily whether her running into a wall was karma for thinking such slander of her Slytherin schoolmates Lyla sat up to gather her things.

That's when she realized something most intriguing. She was lying in the middle of a deserted corridor. No where close to any walls or pillars for that matter. So what in Hogwart's did she run into? Lyla was about to investigate this unfortunate phenomenon when two pairs of feet stepped into her line of vision.

'So much for the deserted part,' Lyla thought scornfully as she prepared to deal with whoever had deterred her from her path of potential vengeance. Common sense—if there was actually any left in the school—dictates that when witnessing a person muttering angrily, and not to mention emphatically, to themselves and stomping down abandoned corridors unaware of all else progressing around them, one should probably keep their distance to ensure maximum retention of all body parts.

Lyla was about to get up so she could teach these unidentified persons a lesson in what happens when they get in her way when two hands appeared before her eyes. It was a nice gesture on their part which made Lyla just curious enough to not hex before verifying the identities of her latest run-in with morons.

Her eyes slowly scrolled up two different—yet equally as pleasing—sets of legs, up strong calves and muscular thighs holding the as of yet faceless delectable's upright. As she further inspected the two obviously male physiques before her, Lyla could honestly say that she was not disappointed let alone upset that she'd collided with the two very solid bodies standing before her.

Lyla's head was swarming with all sorts of thoughts Remus would rather never know flitted through his goddaughter's mind let alone listen in on. It was due to these rampant thoughts—Lyla suspected at least—that she temporarily lost all cognitive functioning. Her hazy mind continued perusing upwards in what felt like slow motion and it was then that Lyla heard it.

It was faint at first. As though the sound was being carried on an imaginary breeze down the corridor to her anticipating ears. It quickly grew louder and clearer however, till Lyla knew exactly what it was. Blinking leisurely up past clearly defined and chiseled abdomens Lyla smiled lazily.

The swell of violins rang in her mind, building up to the two words that would seal her fate as an android. "At last." The words were slowly drawn out as Lyla cringed in recognition. "My love has come along." After subtly peering around the area, "My lonely days are over," fully expecting a band of cutesy chubby cherubs ready to attack and coming up blissfully empty handed Lyla finally made eye contact with the two blokes who'd knocked her off her feet. "And life is like a song."

The song languidly continued on as Lyla realized that she knew or at least recognized the two upperclassmen from Oliver's avid descriptions that in her opinion did very little to properly describe the gorgeous male specimens grinning down at her. They were both Quidditch players, coincidentally Captains of their House's team and both equally as dashing as the other.

On her left was the incredibly striking 5th year Ravenclaw, Roger Davies. His long glossy black hair fell ever so delicately into his shimmering crystal blue eyes as he extended his hand to Lyla's sprawled frame. Lyla was nearly overwhelmed as she glanced from the tall, dark, and handsome Ravenclaw to the muscular blonde 6th year Hufflepuff on her right. Lyla had to hold back the dreamy sigh that nearly escaped from her as she gazed into cool grey eyes belonging to the well-known Cedric Diggory.

He too was offering his hand to her and Lyla instantly felt panic start to stir within her. She was torn between which hand to accept for she didn't want to turn down either of the two that'd knocked her quite literally off her feet. After a few frantic moments deliberation she decided on the most logical course of action that would cause the least amount of damage to either male's ego or more importantly her prospective social life.

Taking neither hand, Lyla clambered unsteadily to her feet, brushing off her uniform as she worked to make herself look more presentable to her present company. When she felt better about her appearance Lyla glanced back up at the much taller boys and made to greet them. However she really should have clued her mouth in on her intentions before attempting such a brazen move.

Instead of the casual 'Hey' she had planned to pronounce, that one syllable salutation warped its way into a breathless and dreamy, "Wow," that was languorously sighed out at the two entirely befuddled but nonetheless flattered teens. Lyla cringed as she realized her blunder. Smiling innocently up at the two males she giggled nervously hoping neither of them noticed her slip-up.

Taking their cue from her the boys proceeded to make sure Lyla was uninjured by their collision. She waved them off, trying not to let them see how flustered their concern was making her. "I'm fine really. Nothing is broken or bruised," she assured them as they kept fussing over her well-being. She decided a change of topic was her best chance to escape a more 'thorough' examination.

"Do you two normally hang around corridors waiting for unsuspecting girls to crash into you or is this just a Valentine's Day special you're running today?" Lyla asked shrewdly, entirely relieved that she even managed to get that sentence out without stuttering.

They grinned at each other but denied their clandestine intentions. "We did greet you multiple times but you seemed to be lost in thought," Davies supplied. "You just kept stomping away…gesturing wildly."

"In retrospect it probably wasn't an ingenious move on our part—not stepping out of your way and all…" Diggory calmly rationalized.

Davies suddenly stepped closer to Lyla, purposefully invading her personal space as he grinned 'charmingly' down at her, "But I can't say I'm upset to have a beautiful girl like you fall at my feet."

Lyla felt her cheeks heat up and this unfortunately was her first clue that all was not quite right with her. Lyla—the sane Lyla that is—would never blush from a gorgeous male (or any male for that matter!) implying that she was just another bird-brained ditz flitting about the corridors in search of a good 'tumble.'

Eyes narrowing unexpectedly almost had the persistent male turning tail and fleeing the scene as Lyla glared around her hoping to locate the mindless fiend who dared to put the whammy on her. Fortunately for all those involved she could not detect any suspicious behavior in her nearby vicinity other than the two boys staring strangely at her.

The color in her face only seemed to darken more as she continued to embarrass herself in front of the older boys. She was nearly mortified by her own reaction. Never before could she recall being that flustered by some boy. She felt as though she couldn't function under the pressure of trying to keep her cool in front of them and this realization only made her flush more.

Lyla ducked her head at that moment, crouching down to gather her discarded belongings till she could control her raging hormones. Taking her time she collected up the few items she had dropped. Stuffing a couple scraps of parchment and a quill into her bag Lyla reached for the now once again opened box that contained the rose from her Secret Stalker.

It was empty.

Frantically glancing over her surroundings, Lyla worried that she had lost the lovely 'emblem' of someone's affection for her. Thankfully she found it quickly for she was oddly on the verge of a full blown panic attack. Lyla swiftly reached over and picked up both items from her admirer. Making sure no damage had been inflicted upon the flower before placing it safely back in its rightful place.

Positive that it was still as pristine as when her eyes first fell on it, Lyla casually looked over the card it came with. She smiled serenely, slowly rereading the neatly written prose. Glancing back at the rose once more Lyla felt her smile falter and her eyes twitch as each imaginary puzzle piece in her mind clicked into place.

Her head quickly snapped back to the words at the bottom of the scroll. And there in swirl-y red letters read the answer to Lyla's current predicament. _'I'm sure you'll find its' fragrance to your liking.'_ Lyla stared back and forth between each of the items several times in disbelief; her eyes narrowing at the words in one hand before turning to glare irately at the rose in the other. Cutting back once more over the word 'fragrance', her eye now twitching slightly as she crushed the card in her fist.

Lyla hastily chucked the card back in the box before forcefully closing the lid over it and its offending aroma for it was finally apparent to her that she had been dosed. By what exactly she wasn't sure but she was certainly more determined than she ever was before to find this mystery moron. Lyla pursed her lips angrily, feeling another rant on the verge of erupting, when she remembered where she was and that she was not exactly alone.

She'd no idea precisely how long the fumes from her rose had been freely permeating the air around her but she was certain at least one of the two older boys had been affected by it. Once again gazing about, Lyla searched for a way out of her current fix. Preferably a polite one, no sense offending a couple blokes who'd yet to do her any wrongs. Though the quicker she escaped the more likely that'd stay true.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Lyla sighed, and proceeded to ask the one thing she never dreamed of asking. "So boys, how's Quidditch going, eh?" If they were anything like Oliver, all Lyla needed to do was get them talking. They'd be so focused on the _sport _that she'd be able to slip away quite easily.

This, unfortunately, did not play out as she had planned for Lyla clearly did not know as much about everyone else as she did about Oliver Wood. Oliver would have already gone through at least five pages of Quidditch plays—explaining each as thoroughly as only he would and even revising a few _minor _details along the way—while Davies and Diggory merely stared oddly at Lyla.

They momentarily shared a look to confirm whether they were both witnessing the same before glancing curiously back at a confused and even more wary Lyla. Davies took a step toward Lyla causing her to tense. "Did you crack your head when you fell, darling?" He asked fretfully, reaching out for her as he spoke.

Lyla nearly dove back to the ground but managed to suppress her intentions—a small spasm the only visible sign of her indecision—as she cautiously stepped further away instead. For safe measure she took a few more inconspicuous steps back. She didn't want to risk being within groping distance of a bloke who'd obviously had a bad reaction to her rose's odor.

He'd gotten away with his earlier comment, but no one could expect Lyla to give anymore leeway than that. "Come off it Lyla!" Diggory scoffed suddenly, causing Lyla to jump slightly. She had actually forgotten there was another one to be leery of, obvious signs of budding obsession displaying or not.

Diggory laughed at Lyla's startled and perplexed expression before elaborating. "It's a widely know fact in Hogwarts that Lyla Potter detests Quidditch."

"So there's really no need to pretend," Davies stated, pouting slightly at Lyla's sudden inexplicable distance. Lyla's eyebrow twitched upward incredulously. She didn't understand how it was possible that the entire castle was so perceptive while Oliver was still so clueless. Lyla felt her stomach clench painfully at the thought of Oliver.

It seemed everywhere she turned she was continually being reminded of his existence and of their inevitable future encounter. She couldn't even evade the thought of him, so how could she ever expect to steer clear of him forever? "Those are from Oliver right?" Lyla glanced up swiftly, resisting the urge to heave at the mention of Gryffindor's Scottish Wonder.

"Um…" Lyla mumbled out, briefly thrown by the question as well as a tad shaken that everyone kept bringing up her almost-ex.

Diggory gestured to her concealed rose as he spoke, "He speaks very highly of you, so I assumed—if he isn't an igit—he sent you something special today?"

Momentarily at a loss for words at Diggory's suggestion Lyla simply stared at the two in bewilderment. She still wasn't even considering Oliver as the mastermind behind her newly declared _suspicious_ gifts. Merlin she didn't even consider him a possibility till Rylie suggested him!

Lyla wished to interrogate the two further and, with any luck, get an idea as to what would make them think he was behind everything. Unfortunately the words she was carefully choosing in her mind never made it further than that as something far more intriguing required further explanation.

"You mean he's actually capable of human speech?" Lyla inquired dubiously. Diggory nodded uncertainly. "Huh. I'd never have suspected it," she scoffed still quite a bit disbelieving.

"That's why I always said the two of you would have never worked out, luv." Davies congenially spewed out, slowly sauntering his way closer to the expectedly uneasy 3rd year.

"Oh? And why's that then?" Lyla took an instinctive step back, glancing over Davies shoulder to silently plead for help with an inappropriately amused Diggory.

"He doesn't even know how to talk to a lady." Davies stated confidently.

One part curious the other entirely ill at ease by how well Davies seemed to know Oliver, Lyla did what Lyla always did in these situations. Her curiosity reigning triumphant once again, Lyla took the bait. "And how precisely does one talk to a lady?"

Instantly Lyla knew she should have just bid the two adieu when she had the chance for the cringe on Diggory's face and the smirk adorning Davies' gave Lyla the inkling that she may have to resort to extreme measures of escaping. Measures that would surely land her in the Headmasters office yet again.

Fortunately before Davies could get more than a strangled syllable out, Diggory—sensing the tension in Lyla mounting—decided it best to intervene before the unstable Gryffindor decided to reach for her wand. Throwing his arm around the younger Ravenclaw, Diggory announced that it was far past time to leave.

He proceeded to drag the struggling Davies down the corridor with what looked like a warped version of a headlock holding him firmly in place. Lyla worried Davies wasn't getting enough oxygen to his brain with how tight Diggory's arm was wrapped around his neck. She had every intention of saying something on his behalf, but Diggory had forced them to flee the scene far faster than Lyla could force herself to care.

Shrugging unconcernedly Lyla turned to continue on her way, proceeding as well to obsess over her mystery assailant. She briefly considered Davies and Diggory as suspects but quickly tossed that theory aside. Diggory merely seemed polite towards Lyla whereas Davies, though being forward in showing his interest, was quite obviously affected by her rose.

If either of them truly _were_ behind poisoningher they would have avoided becoming under the influence as well. Mentally running through her list again Lyla added Flint back as the most likely candidate for having done something outrageously stupid. Though if she did that then she'd have no choice but to also place Malfoy's name on the list of morons that didn't know better than to mess with her.

Lyla wondered why only Quidditch fiends seemed to be out for her head that day as she continued on her way, her destination still undetermined. She managed to successfully make it more than halfway down that same corridor without crashing into anything else before coming to an abrupt halt. There turning the corner towards her was the one person she'd hoped to evade at all costs that day.

Despite the brave front she had put on for Rylie, Lyla was neither ready nor willing to confront the 7th year again so soon after their last encounter went so terribly. Cringing painfully at the sight of Oliver Wood barreling towards her, Lyla turned on her heel and fled the near scene as fast as she could—hoping the boy had enough sense not to follow her—for the urge to spew was now irresistible.

Oliver Wood was aggravated.

This was entirely comical to him for he'd only just recently become so. The twins hadn't pestered him to the point that he was fuming. Neither was he bothered so much when Flint went after his girl. Now however, storming down what was probably the trillionth corridor in a short period of time, searching for an ever-evading red head had Oliver on the verge of socking the mocking walls around him.

He was positive he had already scoured the entire castle over with no palpable signs of the 3rd year. Multiple times in fact with no positive results. She had disappeared so quickly Oliver hadn't even seen what direction she had taken off in. Luckily he knew her schedule so well that he assumed she had gone to her Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.

Unfortunately instead of rushing into the classroom and professing his undying devotion to Lyla, he merely slammed the door open—brazenly interrupting the progressing lesson—and began his spew of poetic nonsense to Professor Lupin. Who surprisingly enough, was unimpressed by Oliver's eternal affection for him.

Regrettably their sickly Professor chose to express his disappointment in Oliver by taking house points. All of this was entirely Lyla's fault of course. Oliver saw no one else to blame but her. If she would have just stayed put till he was ready to speak with her instead of gallivanting around the school—doing who knew what!—none of this would be happening.

He wouldn't have publicly embarrassed himself for the billionth time that day. Gryffindor wouldn't have lost oodles of house points and Oliver wouldn't be more perturbed than he could ever recall.

Oliver sighed as he slunk down a set of moving staircases, nearly forgetting the missing step and taking a nasty fall to the lower levels. Admittedly Oliver wasn't only upset with Lyla for she wasn't the only factor working against him that day. She was certainly the easiest to blame however—though Oliver knew better than to proclaim that aloud. With the way his luck was going Lyla would prance around a corner the instant he muttered as much. Then his chances with her would be about as likely as him professing his love to a man!

…

Oliver chose to ignore his last thought as he proceeded with his, hopefully, internal rant.

It was a widely known fact in Hogwarts that Oliver Wood had claims on Lyla Potter. And as such all other males should respectfully harbor no affectionate motives towards her. Unfortunately after the debacle in Hogsmeade that could have detonated, taking down the entire village and much of Hogwarts outer boarders as well, all other males who knew better than to still believe girls had cooties were now taking an interest in Lyla.

And Oliver was not about to just stand idly by and let that happen. Especially when the three he caught in the act were his rival Quidditch captains and the only reason Lyla had piqued their interest was to throw Oliver off his game as was the case with Flint. The game for the House Cup was rapidly approaching after all so what better way to skew his focus than to make a move on his girl?

Gryffindor had already trounced both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw so Diggory and Davies had no other intentions with Lyla other than payback; Oliver was sure of this. This of course infuriated Oliver. How dare they use her to get back at him just because he was obviously a far better Quidditch captain!

Oliver could feel his muscles tense as his veins filled with righteous anger. Whatever the outcome of beating the blokes' heads in Oliver would graciously take it. For he was not about to just stand idly by and let them use his poor fragile flower against him. Oliver had to warn Lyla of their dubious plot before it was too late!

And he certainly would have done so as well, if the sight of his girl going all doe-eyed over two other blokes didn't make him a little uncertain about things once more. Cringing at the scene he now wished he hadn't witnessed Oliver stepped back to hide behind the corner he'd only just turned.

Sure he truly believed he had blown his chance with Lyla. Nevertheless he was determined not to give up that easily. That being acknowledged did not necessarily signify he was by any means prepared to do something yet. However if Lyla had gotten over him that quickly—which he obstinately refused to believe was even possible—Oliver had no choice but to act then.

His plan was to wait till he heard her approaching the corner he was hiding around and _casually_ bump into her. The only hitch to this was the possibility of running into both Quidditch adversaries with her for the thought of them still near her set his blood boiling all over again. Instead Oliver did his breathing exercises for a few minutes to calm down before making his move.

Before he could change his mind Oliver brazenly whirled around the corner and started trundling towards a thankfully solitary Lyla. Oliver opened his mouth to greet the 3rd year but his self-preservation—which was surprisingly punctual for once—kicked in and caused the, more than likely to be lame, salutation to lodge itself in his throat preventing him from embarrassing himself once again.

Panicking at the loss of proper air circulation, Oliver lurched around till his back was facing Lyla, for he didn't want her to witness him struggling to breath for no apparent reason. Cursing quietly under his breath—when he'd finally conquered his own bodily functions that is—Oliver decided that perhaps he should think before acting as brashly as he was known to get while in Lyla's presence.

So instead of walking up to her without a game plan, Oliver took a few moments to quickly—she was walking towards him after all—plot out the perfect words, gestures and, most importantly, body language that would make one Lyla Potter putty in his hands. Smirking arrogantly Oliver nodded to the empty corridor ahead of him. He knew just what to do.

Plastering his most charming smile on his face, Oliver turned once more to greet…the other end of an equally as empty corridor. Oliver blinked dumbly for a second before his eyes narrowed angrily once more. Lyla was nowhere in sight. She was supposed to be right where he left her a little ways down the hallway but there was nothing. No one!

This was so like her. Oliver concluded lowly, scowling at the empty space that had just moments earlier contained one fiery 3rd year Gryffindor. Taking off at the exact moment he decided to speak with her. It was just inconsiderate, plain and simple and Oliver had a mind to track the girl down and let her know precisely how peeved with her he was!

After a moments deliberation Oliver took off after her deciding that was exactly what he was going to do. He only hoped his forcefulness worked to his advantage.

66


End file.
